Preventing Destruction
by Donttellnoone
Summary: It seemed the only way out. Weirdmageddon is prevented at its peak by none other than the Pines family. Now, stuck in human form as their only way of keeping his powers sealed, Bill Cipher must live under the Pines' roof, avoiding confrontation like the plague because, in this state, he's absolutely defenseless. human!Bill Cover art by @Elentori, GO CHECK HER OUT! On short hiatus
1. Teaser

His head pounded and his wrists ached where they'd been rubbed raw by the ropes around them. There was no part of his being that didn't scream in agony. If he'd had any strength left, he might've been able to keep his head up and his eyes open and his mind alert, but as it was, he fell into blissful oblivion. Voices mumbled around him and on occasion something would bump him as he was dragged across concrete, but he couldn't muster up the will power to open his eyes. Maybe they thought him dead or maybe they thought he was unconscious. It wouldn't be terribly unlikely after the beating he'd been through. Heck, he felt he'd pass out at any second.

It'd all happened not thirty minutes prior. He'd felt absolutely certain that his last threats would be eliminated and he'd be unstoppable in finalizing the last steps in his Weirdmagenddon, but he'd underestimated the Pines family. The event passed in a blur and in mere moments, when he thought it was all over, Stanford had activated a spell that took over his body and turned him human. He'd been right, it was all over. With his powers sealed away and at a disadvantage in the new body, the Pines' had easily overpowered him and took him captive. The sky turned back to blue and the damage repaired itself. The throngs of people that had once been his throne fell and gained consciousness just in time to see him in his weakened state. Had it not been for his Shooting Star and Pinetree, he'd surely be dead. No doubt about it.

"Don't you dare pass out, Cipher." the harsh words bit through the muffled chaos. Ole' Sixer had always had a harsh tone toward him.

Bill managed a weak grunt, but couldn't manage to even open his eyes. The second the towns people recognized the once yellow triangle now turned man, they had mobbed him and he'd been beaten beyond recognition, each of them taking turns in hurting him in one way or another. He'd laughed for the first little while, but by the time he'd had his ribs bruised, the pain started to get to him and, being unaccustomed to human emotion, tears had filled his eyes. While he hated this weakness, he couldn't bring himself to resent it. It had, after all, been the key factor that caused the youngest Pines twins to calm the others and beg for mercy for him.

He couldn't stop the weak, strained chuckle that bubbled up at their foolishness. They'd prevented the death of the one who'd destroyed their town. They'd prevented the death of the one who devoted himself to kill them.

"If you've got the strength to laugh, you've got the strength to walk the rest of the way." Stanley said as he pulled the demon turned human farther up and onto shaky legs.

Bill tried to keep up as they pulled him down the road, but stumbled on the trembling legs beneath him. It was just in time that they lifted and shoved him into the back seat of Stan's 1965 El Diablo. He was shoved into the middle and the twins climbed in next to him with their great uncles taking up the front seats.

The silence was deafening and the tension was high. He tried to keep his bloodied head from lolling back and forth, but found it extremely difficult to form any kind of intentional movements and gave up quickly.

"Grunkle Ford, shouldn't we take him to a hospital?" One of the twins asked. Bill found he couldn't focus enough on which one it was. They both looked alike right then anyway.

"I had thought about it, but I doubt there's a single doctor in a fifty mile radius that'd be willing to look him over. We'll just have to do it ourselves once we get back." He assumed it was Sixer who had spoken since that was who'd been addressed.

"I don't know that we'll have the medical knowledge to fix this. He looks awful." something pulled his shirt away from his body and he squinted to see a small hand probing at his abdomen. "There looks to be several problems with his ribs which means there's a possibility of internal bleeding"

"What do you want me to do, Dipper? He nearly destroyed the town. No one else is going to help him and the only reason he's not dead in a ditch right now is because of you two. If he dies, he dies, there's nothing more we can do about it."

"We have to!" that must've been Mable, her voice higher and more nasally, "There has to be something we can do!"

Bill peaked open a swollen eyelid to look down at the children beside him. Had he not been nearly beaten to death and saved by the two least likely people on earth, he might've thought of doing harm to them, but he had nearly been beaten to death and he was in a vulnerable position. He felt an ache in his chest at the compassion, or was it pity, the twins displayed.

"th-hank you" he whispered, his throat raw from screaming and voice muffled from being strangled. Tears formed in his eyes and he was unable to hold them back. His chin dropped to his chest and his eyes closed, the silent, exhausted tears drying on his face as he was whisked into unconsciousness.

 **A/N**

 **Hey guys, thank you so much for reading. This is just a short sneak peak into whats coming up. Call it a prologue or trailer, if you'd like. I really avoided writing much from Mable mainly because I don't really know how to write her in a somber setting and I don't feel she'd speak up much unless to defend someone.**

 **Anyway feel free to comment your opinions and vote for the story and I should have the first real chapter up soon!**


	2. My Hero

**A/N**

 **This is my warning line! Yay!**

 **But seriously, warnings for violence in some chapters and there might end up being a little bit of crude humor. It's Bill, what do you expect? I'll put disclaimers for things I think are necessary at the top of the chapters. This one doesn't have any, this is just my general story disclaimer.**

 **I'm not currently planning on adding any ships to the mix, it will probably just focus on friendship in future chapters, but I'll let you know as I go. There definitely won't be any sexually explicit scenes because I can't write that and personally think it's nasty.**

 **Thanks for coming back for the first technical chapter, or if you're new, thanks for joining us!**

 **Now onto the story!**

* * *

The bruised human body of his enemy laid still on their couch.

It was so unreal to see him. To see the spell had actually worked. The body was anything Ford could've imagined it being. From the half and half yellow-black concoction of hair to the slightly slitted yellow eyes that were currently hidden under eyelids. This body was the exact replica of what he'd picture Bill Cipher to look like. It was young, most probably mistaking him for just out of college, little would they know he was millions of years old and actually a demon. His face, boyish in the cheeks, had a strong jaw line and a slender nose. It was a wonder that nose wasn't out of shape after all that had happened. Ford was sure he'd seen freckles scattered across his cheekbones before the mob had attacked and his face had been so bloodied you couldn't distinguish a freckle from the scrapes even after being washed clean.

The most disturbing part of the young body were the tattoos that littered his entire back, torso, and arms. They'd been noticed from the very beginning and were the main concern for many who'd seen him since. Strange words and symbols all leading up to a depiction of his former self.

Ford of course knew the reason for them being there. They were the direct link to the spell. Those tattoos would keep Bill from causing any harm, they would keep him from acting on his own, and most importantly, they'd keep his powers and knowledge limited and hopefully sealed off. Not that Bill wouldn't know that.

The demon's face scrunched in pain and he released a small groan. His bound hands pulled up to his face, most likely to rub his eyes or grab his head, but when they didn't separate they stopped and one golden eye peaked open to look at the binds. A flash of confusion turned acknowledgement later, the demon turned his head to glance around the room. His eyes fell upon Ford and he froze.

"How are you feeling?" Ford asked and was sure Bill could tell he didn't truly care.

"Fantastic." he said sarcastically, his voice horse from screaming and rough from sleep. "Where am I?"

"Do you really need to ask?"

Bill scoffed and closed his eyes, a small smile toying at his lips. His body screamed in agony. He could barely remember the events leading up to this. Everything was different than it had been. What happened to being able to see endless outcomes? Why could he now only imagine the possibilities? His smile vanished and his eyes opened, turning to Ford with a serious expression.

"Why'd you keep me alive, Fordsie?" Ford could tell he was trying to act nonchalant, but it wasn't working and the curiosity mixed with his semi-stoic voice.

Ford decided not to answer that and instead glared at the young man.

"What are you going to do to me?"

Ford sighed, becoming irritated with the barreling of questions. "I don't know yet, Bill. I don't know"

"What do you mean 'you don't know?' You can't keep me here forever!" Irritation and traces of fear bled into his tone.

Ford could sympathize with the demon. Had he been captured by his enemy he'd be scared and expect answers. On the other hand, he was in charge, not Bill, and he would decide when to let the man stop fearing for the inevitable.

"Oh no, Bill, not forever. None of us would last that long, you see, but if I were you, I wouldn't expect anything for a long, long time."

Bill smirked and he scoffed. "What do you know?"

Ford sighed for the up tenth time that hour and removed his glasses to wipe the lenses on his shirt, "I don't know the entirety of this spell" he began, pushing his glasses back onto the bridge of his nose, "I know all of your magic abilities are locked away and that your body is designed like any other human. You will have to rely on any basic human function to live and too long without one of them will kill you. You are not omnipotent anymore. You are not immortal and if I find even one reason to kill you, I will. Dipper and Mabel leave in two days and then, you'll have no one on your side, so you better behave. I don't know what limits you'll have and I'll assume there will be many until proven wrong. Research will have to be done to see what those limits are-"

"I'm not a lab rat!" Bill interrupted, his eyes turning crimson and a scowl taking home on his face.

Ford waited a moment for him to calm down before leaning forward and speaking. "I don't think you understand your position, Cipher. You lost. You are physically incapable of hurting anyone and you are trapped in Gravity Falls. The only way you'll live the rest of this pathetic body's life is by someone providing for you and the only people in a fifty mile radius who's not dead set on killing you are right behind that door"

Bill looked confused before understanding crossed his features, "You mean the twins"

Ford nodded.

* * *

Dipper sighed as he twirled his straw around in his glass of milk.

"They say the more you sigh, the sooner you'll die" Mable said, not even glancing up as she drew on a piece of paper that was littered in traces of glitter and a dozen stickers.

"Oh come on, you know I don't believe in that stuff" he said and took a sip.

Stan put a hand on his shoulder and shook him a bit, "Come on, kid, you have nothing to worry about"

"I'm not worried" he said, his brows furrowing as he thought about the reason of his distress. Why had he helped Bill? That demon would be dead now if it weren't for him. Well, and Mabel, but the two of them together just doubled the people fighting for him. That demon deserved death yet they had saved him from his fate.

"You did what you thought was right, Dipper, nothing else matters" Stan said and took a long swallow from his lukewarm coffee.

"And what if what I thought was right at the time turns out to be wrong? For all we know, Bill will figure out some way of getting his powers back and all of us will come out dead all because I couldn't stomach the sight of a demon getting his just desserts." Dipper stood and dumped his milk in the sink. His stomach ached at the thought of what had happened. Creamy, thick milk wasn't what he wanted to add to the mixture of butterflies. The thought made him nauseous.

"Dipper," Mabel called and he turned to look at her, "compassion doesn't make you a bad person." She hopped off her chair and headed over to him, pulling out a sticker pad and putting one on his cheek. Dipper pulled it off to see it said _My Hero_ and had a picture of a red and yellow shield behind it. Mabel grabbed it from his hands and put it on his shirt. "You may look like the bad guy to some people, but I know there's at least one person who thinks you're the best person alive right now."

"I couldn't care less of what Bill thinks of me." Dipper scoffed and scowled, tempted to pull the sticker off and throw it away, but knowing it would upset his twin.

Mabel gave him a sad smile, "I wasn't talking about Bill, Bro-Bro"

How had he forgotten? Mabel hated violence. Standing up to the town to save Bill's life was something heroic to her.

Dipper smiled, "Thanks,"

"Not a problem," Mabel smiled and punched his shoulder. Dipper winced and rubbed at the spot.

 **A/N**

 **And the first real chapter is brought to a finish!**

 **Slow start, I know. I thought about switching POV and continuing to make it a bit longer, but thought that two POV switches in 1300 words is enough already. I'm gonna try to make chapter lengths somewhere around 1500 words, but might not always make it to that and might sometimes exceed it. I plan on posting about once a week, give or take a little, but I don't know how that will work in the upcoming months because I'm starting classes late August and work every other opportunity. Please just be patient with me! Anyway let me know if you think the characters are acting OOC. I'm trying really hard and can't always tell, but I really want to make this good. I was reading a story just last week where the author had the perfect take on every character except one and it just frustrated me a little...**

 **For those of you wondering, I'm getting a lot of my 'facts' from a theorist named Douglas MacKrell. If you haven't heard about him, he posted a four part series called Deciphering Cipher about the information he's collected through the show, the shows resources, and Bill Cipher's Reddit AMA from 2015. I really enjoyed a lot of his theories so before you say stuff along the lines of "you should research more about your characters" or "that's not what they're like", I did research them quite a bit but couldn't find much relevant information and decided to check out MacKrell. Anyway, check him out if you get the chance, he's got a lot of interesting plot points that are mention worthy.  
**


	3. Your Own Body

**A/N**

 **It was brought to my attention that a lot of themes in this chapter are similar to another story on this site. That being Road to Redemption by 3DPhantom - which, if you haven't read yet, is a great read with a great plot line and perfect character interpretations. It's honestly one of my favorite Bill Redemption fic here. Let it be known, I have spoken with the author and she is okay with me keeping it as is. She was super friendly and considerate of the situation. Go read her stories and don't forget to support her by favoriting and commenting feedback!**

 **Now on to the story!**

* * *

Dipper glared across the table at Bill as he sat picking at his fingernails.

Bill would glance up every once in a while, but it never lasted long. Dipper liked to believe Bill couldn't glare back because he was intimidated, though deep down, he knew that was false.

He couldn't help thinking the demon looked almost like a normal person the way he was dressed, despite the large bruises lingering at nearly every open sight of skin. A grey t-shirt from Grunkle Ford's college days and jeans a size to big being held around his slim waist by a belt. The only oddity was his eyes. Unnaturally yellow and slitted ever so slightly. It almost reminded Dipper of a cat.

"Okay, Cipher," Ford called as he swung open the door from the kitchen and entered the dining room. Stan followed close behind with a rolled up newspaper and cup of coffee in either hand. Bill glanced up at Ford before going back to whatever was interesting him with his nails. "We are laying down the rules now before you get any excuses to do something stupid."

Bill laughed slightly before leaning back in his seat and looking up at the elder man. He stretched his arms above his head, wincing slightly as it stretched his bruised ribs, but otherwise unaffected by the motion. "What's the word, Fordsie?" He smiled arrogantly up at him, pulling his feet up and using the chair next to him as a prop.

Ford glared and pulled the chair back causing Bill's feet to fall with a thud. The smile disappeared and Bill clenched his jaw as Ford sat down in his footrest.

"The rules are simple, obey them or you will suffer the consequences. First, if you even try to hurt anyone, even as self defense, you will be killed on the spot. No questions asked, no answers given. I won't tolerate it in the slightest.

"Second, you will listen to whatever we say and do whatever we say to do. That includes me, Stan, the twins, and heck, why not throw Soos and Wendy in that too. Basically if anyone you interact with tells you to do something, you better do it.

"Third, you will sleep in a locked room with nothing in there aside from a bed and a blanket. That will be the place you stay any time someone is unable to keep an eye on you. The room is not yours and will be checked if we feel any suspicions.

"Don't expect special treatment, in actuality, you should probably expect just the opposite. On that note, you will be on constant monitoring from the time you wake up to the time you go to sleep. If you're caught without someone supervising you for any reason, if you go anywhere without explicit permission, there will be severe consequences. You don't have an option to argue, if you disagree to these terms you will be killed right here and now. Do you understand, Bill?"

Ford glared at the young man who stared but didn't speak. Temper flared, he reached out and grabbed hold of the front of Bill's borrowed t-shirt, pulling him closer and into his face.

"Do you understand me, Cipher?" He yelled, trying to look more intimidating than he felt.

Bill smirked before bursting out in psychotic laughter. Disturbed, Ford pushed him back into his seat and pulled out his ray gun from his jacket pocket.

Bill ceased suddenly and grinned, "What choice do I have? You're just giving yourself an excuse to kill me." He said then leaned forward in his seat and extended his hand swiftly.

Ford steeled himself for the outcome as he shakily gripped onto Bill's extended hand. He half expected the blue glow of flames to appear. Bill shook and released. Ford let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding and looked to his brother. "Would you show him to his room?" he asked quietly.

Stan nodded and grabbed Bill's upper arm, pulling him up and out of the room.

As soon as Bill was gone, Ford collapsed. His legs gave out and his hands shook like jelly pudding.

"Grunkle Ford!" The twins yelled simultaneously, running to his side.

"I'm fine." He told them, rubbing his shaky hands across his face, "I'm fine."

"What's the matter?" Mable asked, placing a hand on his forehead as if she'd be able to tell if he had a fever.

"It's just a rush of adrenaline." He lied. For a short moment, he had been sure that Bill would kill him the moment they touched. That simple hand shake had reminded him of the tortures Bill had put him through not even twenty four hours ago. He took a deep breath to steady his racing heart and smiled at his great niece and nephew. "I'm fine."

* * *

"Alright Cipher" Stan said as he opened the door to the basement bedroom. He stood out and watched as Bill walked into the room and glanced around at the dullness. Stan was glad he'd had Soos clean out the room after finding it earlier that summer. It would serve as the perfect 'bedroom' for Bill due to the small side bathroom, boarded windows, and outside locks.

"Please don't tell me I have to stay bored in here all the time." Bill whined, slouching nearly a foot to show his displeasure.

"Were you not listening to Ford at all?!" Stan yelled at him. Bill flinched slightly at the noise and stood back up with a scowl on his face. "You're not getting any special treatment. If it weren't for the kids, you'd be dead. I have half the mind to kill you anyway after what you've done to my family!"

Bill smirked slightly at the last of his sentence and Stan growled before slamming the door and locking it.

Bill couldn't stop the chuckle that burst out at the thought of what he'd done and just like that it was gone with the thought of what he'd been unable to accomplish. He stood in silence for several moments with a scowl on his face.

With a flick of his eyelids, he looked up and around the room. Wooden floors, wooden ceiling, wooden walls. The one window in the room had been mostly boarded by wooden panels. Bill let out a huff of air and walked over to them, his hands gripped the splintered planking and pulled with all of his might. One of the nails squeaked but made no movement.

He tried to peer outside but could barely see anything. A glimpse of the forest behind them and picnic table that had probably not been used in forever. He turned, tired of the same scenery. Upon sitting on it, he found the bed cased a lumpy mattress and a thin scratchy comforter. He stood and kicked at the frame, wincing when his stubbed toe throbbed.

"Not as funny when it's your own body, is it?"

Bill jumped and turned to see Dipper standing in the doorway. He chuckled, "Pinetree, don't sneak up on me like that." He smiled.

"Don't call me Pinetree." Dipper scowled.

"What's the matter? Aren't you the one who saved me?"

"Don't-!" Dipper started, stopping himself with a deep breath, "Don't assume I did it for you."

"Okay, I won't" Bill said, turning back to look at the ceiling where he thought he spotted a crack. No, just an illusion by the board.

"Come on, dinner is ready" Dipper called, gesturing out the door.

Bill smirked and patted the boy's head as he passed by and walked up the stairs. Dipper growled and slammed the door behind him to show his displeasure as he followed.

Upstairs was tense as the two walked back into the dining room where taco fixings were displayed across the cherry wood table. The other three occupants sat still, blankly looking ahead until Dipper and Bill took their seats.

Ford sighed and looked up at his family, "Let's eat." He said and Dipper and Stan both reached for taco shells while Mabel grabbed the spoon for Mexican rice.

Bill watched them each fill their tacos with colorful fillings like lettuce, tomato, and cheese. He'd of course seen tacos before, but the idea of them was more of a thought than a possible reality.

"Are you going to stop staring and eat already?" Ford asked, his fist clenching beside him as he pulled his glass of water up for a drink.

Bill stared at Ford a moment before reaching across for a taco shell, "I..uh...I don't know exactly how to do this?" Bill fumbled over his words as he looked down at the mix of ingredients.

"Bill!" Mabel gasped and sat straighter in her chair, "You've never eaten a taco before?"

Bill scoffed, "Of course not, why would I need to?"

Mabel clicked her tongue at him before standing and walking around the table to take his shell. "First you add rice and then the meat. After that is the lettuce, cheese, tomato, and salsa." She said, adding each ingredient then handing it off to him.

He took the taco and held it over the plate. His first attempted bite spilled nearly half of the toppings to the plate and surrounding areas. Stan glared and Bill turned his head more to get better access to it.

"This isn't bad." Bill said around the chip, meat, and veggies in his mouth.

"Would you close your mouth when you chew, you're not a pig" Stan said irritably.

Bill swallowed then pulled his nose back with one finger to make a pig nose but otherwise complied with Stan's request. No one noticed as his other hand slipped the butter knife beside his plate under the table and into his pants pocket.

"Are you sassing me, demon?" Stan asked.

"Why? Is it against the rules?" Bill replied and took another bite of his taco.

Ford stood and slapped Bill across the face, "Dag nabbit, could you just listen for once?"

Bill put his taco down, the cocky smile falling with it. He had to try his hardest to keep from retaliating, his hands shook in his lap as he waited. His stomach clenched and his hands became clammy.

"Move." Ford instructed, pointing toward the staircase. Bill didn't waste any time and stood, walking back down the stairs to the room he was assigned to live in. His cheek stung but he wouldn't give Ford the satisfaction of seeing him rub at it. He pulled off his shirt when he reached the room and threw it across the floor.

"You know, everyone's life will be a lot easier if you'd just shut your mouth once in a while." Ford said, staring at the young man's back.

Bill turned back to Ford, gesturing his tattoo-lined chest, "You ruined my life, Stanford, don't expect me to be okay with that."

Ford nodded and gave him a solemn look, "Don't worry, it's just pay back for ruining ours." Ford turned, slamming the door behind him, and locking Bill in the wooden room.

* * *

 **A/N**

 **I did it! I beat the 1500 word goal! This one's about 1800, so not by much, but it's still something. I had to rewrite that last dinner scene about four times to make it something I was somewhat okay with. I still don't like how it ended though.** **Is it just me or does Bill kinda sound like a spoiled teenager at the end there? :P Writer problems. Let me know what you think so far as you get to see more of Bill and the way I'm depicting him. Things are probably gonna get dark in the next few chapters, but I'm gonna try to keep it no higher than T rating. Thank you!**


	4. Mid Nights

Ford's fists shook as he stood on the opposite side of the door that confined Bill Cipher. He heard the demon scream and the squeak of the bed as it moved and Ford can only guess he had hit or kicked at it.

He took a long breath and closed his eyes a moment before heading back up the stairs. The kids sat silently at the table, moving their forks around in the rice but not lifting it to their mouths.

"Look, I'm sorry, but I am not about to let him think he has an ounce of control here." Ford said as he sat down beside them and picked up his fork. He paused it on the way up to his mouth. Apparently his appetite had left as well.

"We understand why you did it, Grunkle Ford," Dipper said, glancing up, but not making eye contact, "We just wish you didn't have to."

Stan stood, grabbing his plate and drink, "I'll be in the living room if you need me," he said, dismissing himself from the table. A few moments later the remaining group heard the television click on.

Mabel stood and dumped the remaining food into the trash before putting her plate by the sink. "I'm gonna go to bed."

"Me too," Dipper said, copying his sister and following her out of the room.

"Goodnight" Ford called and heard it repeated back to him.

He sat a few moments, debating if he actually wanted to eat. Realizing he couldn't stomach anything else at the moment, he sighed and stood, taking his plate to the trash and reluctantly dumping the remaining contents in. He set it by the sink and was about to start putting left overs away when he saw Bill's plate. He silently picked it up and copied the motion before grabbing containers from the cabinet and putting the remainder away.

* * *

Bill wasn't sure what woke him up.

He tried his best to go back to sleep but laid awake despite his wishes. He curled his knees up to his chest in hopes of finding a comfortable position, when it hit him. Hunger and thirst. He'd only managed two bites of the taco in the last thirty six hours.

Bill swallowed his own saliva and begged his body to sleep. Everything hurt from the beating he'd received and the spring filled mattress did little to help. He half wondered if the floor would be more comfortable. His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth and his throat ached.

Losing the battle, he sighed and stood, walking to the small attached bathroom. It was very convenient for this to be attached since he doubted even if he banged on the door and yelled at the top of his lungs that anyone would hear him if he really needed the bathroom.

He moved to the sink, turning on the low flowing tap and cupping his hands under the water. He brought them up carefully to his mouth once they'd filled and sipped as much as he could before it dripped down.

Bill repeated this a few times before turning off the faucet and moving back to the bed. He pulled on it, quietly dragging it away from the wall. In the corner sat the butter knife from dinner. He hopped over the bed to the utensil and grabbed it by the hilt. The next little while was spent slamming the knife hard into the ground, each time producing a chip fragment to come off of the wood. The design would have to be perfect for his plan to work. He couldn't even make it to an eighth of the circle he was making before he was forced to give up by the rising sun.

He pushed the bed quietly back into place, storing the knife underneath by the scratches in the wood. He pulled the blanket around his shoulders and sat in the corner of the bed, simultaneously wishing for more sleep and more time to work.

He peaked out the window just as the sun rose behind the trees, it's light barely making it passed the wooden panels and into the dimly lit room.

Bill closed his eyes once more, his head pounding from the exertion and lack of sleep. Five more minutes he begged, and eventually fell into restless sleep in his upright position.

* * *

Ford took a sip of his tea as he walked down the stairs to Bill's room. He shivered slightly as he reached the bottom and took another sip of the hot drink.

He knocked twice on the door before unlocking and opening it. Bill sat upright in the corner of the bed with his legs curled up to his chest and the blanket wrapped so tightly around him it looked like he'd choke. Like this, Ford almost believed Bill wasn't anything more than a young man.

"Bill, wake up." He called from the door, not wanting to intrude in the space just yet.

Bill groaned and squeezed his eyes shut as Ford flicked on the lights to arouse him quicker.

"Come on, we have stuff to do today," Ford said, tossing a clean white t-shirt across the room to the bed. "You have two minutes." Ford said as he closed the door to give him some privacy.

He heard the demon groan on the other side of the door and the bed springs squeak. A minute later, Bill knocked on the door and Ford opened it.

Bill's eyes were barely open and his hair was still messy as he wrapped his hands across his chest for warmth. He limped ever so slightly as he walked, Ford assumed he slept in the wrong position, after all, he did walk in to find him sitting up while asleep.

"How'd you sleep?" Ford asked blandly as they ascended the stairs.

Bill grunted but didn't otherwise answer. His teeth chattered slightly as they made way for the kitchen, wishing he could've stayed under the warm blankets.

The kids greeted them as they entered and Stan poured a bowl of cereal for each of them. Bill sat and rubbed his face slightly.

"You look like you got hit by a truck." Dipper commented, smirking slightly at the sight of the larger male.

"I feel like it." He mumbled, staring as Stan set a bowl of the cold, flakey soup in front of him. Cold did not sound like anything he wanted right now as his attention was drawn to the elder twin's steaming cups.

"Can I have some tea?" Bill asked quietly as Stan set down his own bowl. "Please?" he added as a second thought.

Stan stared at him for a moment before sighing and nodding. He left to pour him a cup then set it on the table once he was finished.

Bill immediately grabbed the cup and blew lightly on it before sipping. The flavor was awful, but it warmed his insides, causing him to go in for another sip.

Stan chuckled, "I didn't even put any sweeteners in it, it can't be that good."

Bill ignored him and wrapped both hands around it and took another sip.

"Bill, eat your food before it gets soggy." Ford scolded, not even glancing up from his journal as he jotted down whatever he was thinking about at the moment.

Bill reluctantly complied and set the cup of tea down close by and reached for the spoon. As soon as the spoon was in hand, he noticed the small blisters surfacing on his palm. Hopefully no one else would notice, or if they did, they'd think it was something that had come up from the mob.

He quickly learned that he didn't really like the texture of cereal, but he was so hungry, he couldn't stand to mind. He finished quickly then went back to the tea before it had the chance to cool too much.

After breakfast, Stan decided to show Bill how to do chores around the shack. The gift shop wouldn't open for another hour so Stan set Bill to sweeping up the interior before tourists arrived. They all had come to the silent conclusion that having Bill in the open around the towns people, who he had terrorized and turned to stone, wasn't the best idea.

Stan set to counting the money in the register to make sure there was enough change for the day as Bill swept. He kept a close eye on the demon as he pushed dust back and forth with a broom. It didn't take long for Stan to realize he wasn't really trying and was rather just pushing it back and forth across the floor, but he couldn't bring himself to get after him for it.

"Good morning, Mr. Pines." Soos said as he walked in the front door and straight to the register where Stan was. Stan grunted a good morning back but otherwise stayed focused on the money in the drawer, not wanting to loose count and be forced to count it all over again.

Bill turned his head at the sound of the door opening. Upon seeing the intruder, he turned back to his job. He didn't think Question Mark realized his presence yet and hoped to keep it that way. Soos seemed like a good guy, but you never knew what would upset some people. There were only two possible outcomes to what the fat man's reaction would be that Bill could predict without his powers. Angry or fearful.

"Hey, dude," Soos called, "you the new guy?"

Bill took a deep breath and turned back to look at him. Soos looked him over for a good minute before his eyebrows furrowed.

"It's you."

Semi-false bravado filled him as he smiled coyly at the employee and chuckled. If he had the ability to choose, he would force the fear on him before he got angry. "Hey there, Question Mark." He walked closer to the fat man and leaned closely. Soos leaned away as he leaned forward.

"Cipher, back up, now." Stan called as he approached from behind Soos.

Bill scowled, raising his empty hand and turning back to his job, "You take all the fun away, Stanley."

"Soos, don't let him intimidate you. He's completely powerless and has to listen to every word anyone says." Stan said and Bill's shoulders tensed at the mention of his new weaknesses. He'd expected them to tell the people he'd be interacting with, but he didn't think it'd feel like this to have it stated so plainly.

"Oh, that's cool, I guess." Soos said nervously before turning to start on his job. Bill smiled slightly. He'd created the fear he'd hoped for. Maybe it would keep people away from him.

"Bill," Stan called once his worker left. Bill froze and turned his head to give him a slight profile. He had expected Stan to comment on his behavior.

"Do not threaten anyone again." His tone was harsh and hostile and for a second, Bill wondered if he'd need to dodge for something.

Bill scoffed to hide the sudden butterflies that swarmed his chest, "I don't threaten, Stanley, you should know that by now"

* * *

 **A/N**

 **Be-boop!**

 **And Soos has appeared!**

 **Originally I had made a longer scene at breakfast where Bill got hiccups and everyone teased him when he got frustrated. I ended up deciding it wasn't essential to the story and removed it. You guys will have to let me know if you want me to do something with the deleted scenes that I've had for this story. It'd probably have to be a separate book, but it could be fun. I'd hate to write all that for nothing.**

 **Don't forget to comment and favorite the stories and I'll see you next week with the next chapter!**


	5. The Other Side

**Warning: Minor violence in this chapter, but nothing you wouldn't see in a PG-13 movie.**

* * *

Five minutes before opening, Bill was shoved through the kitchen door and told to stay with the twins since Ford was doing research and Stan was helping in the shop. They ended up dragging him into the living room in front of a wash basket.

Mabel turned on the television and Dipper handed Bill a towel and told him to fold it. It had been the younger's job, but he figured if he was stuck babysitting the demon, he should at least get something from it.

Dipper leaned back and watched out of the corner of his eye as Bill clumsily tried to fold one of the light blue terry cloths. He failed and with a frustrated sigh unfolded it and tried again. It still wasn't good enough to fit in the cabinet yet the demon set it aside in a pile.

"You can't just leave it like that." Dipper scolded catching the eye of the demon as he clenched his jaw. Mabel glanced over warily but turned back to the show. She'd sit quietly until she saw the need to intervene.

"Oh yeah? Then how is it done, Pinetree?" Bill asked, tossing him the beige towel he'd picked up and folding his arms across his chest.

Dipper chose to ignore the use of the name he had said not to use, instead picking up the towel and scooting closer to Bill. He grabbed the corners of one side and folded it three times to make a neat square.

"Like that." he said, picking up Bill's messily folded towel and placing the neat one in its place. He threw Bill's first sad attempt back to the demon and grabbed another to demonstrate.

Bill took the blue cloth and tried to mimic Dipper's movements as he folded. The boy placed another neat one on the pile and Bill glared down at the mess of fabric. Mabel giggled catching the eye of both males and causing Bill to scowl at her and throw his towel down.

"If it's so funny, why don't you do it yourself?!" He yelled.

"One more time." Dipper said, pulling out a green towel. Bill sighed and picked up the terry cloth once again, watching as Dipper slowly folded it to let him follow. Dipper placed his towel in the pile and looked up just in time to see Bill make the final fold and grin at his semi success. It was still messy, but it was square and it would fit in the cabinet, that's all that really mattered.

A noise from the kitchen caught the group's attention and they turned to the door just in time to see Wendy enter.

"Hey guys, Stan said you'd-" her eyebrows furrowed and she glared at the demon, her day bag and sweater dropped at the sight of the yellow haired demon. Time seemed to stand still as the reality of who was in front of who set in.

Wendy lunged for Bill, tackling him to the side and knocking over the laundry basket and the pile of the once folded towels. Mabel and Dipper jumped to action, gripping Wendy's arms and tugging her away. Bill scooted back until he had enough space to stand.

"Wait, Wendy, you can't hurt him!" Mabel cried, struggling with the taller girl. Wendy was strong and the two thirteen-year-olds had to fight to keep her back.

"Yeah right! Like how he didn't hurt my family?!" she nearly screamed.

Bill backed up closer to the television set on the opposite side of the room but didn't otherwise look effected by Wendy's presence just yet. A smirk graced his lips and a brow was raised as his heart thundered on the inside. If Soos had taken the fearful route, Wendy definitely had the angry side of the spectrum.

"Please, Wendy, calm down," Dipper pulled back on her arm again as she tried to lunge forward, "let us explain"

"I thought he was already dead!" Wendy huffed but stopped pulling.

Mabel's eyes filled with tears, "We decided to give him a second chance."

"A second-? What? After what he did? He doesn't deserve that!"

"I know," Dipper said solemnly and Wendy turned to look at him. She paused her active pursuit of the demon and turned her focus to Dipper. His hold slackened slightly and he looked back to Bill once more, "but we can't just kill him yet"

Wendy huffed, "Well, I can." she whispered, taking advantage of the twin's slacked grips and lunging forward, gripping Bill's shirt and shoving him into the wall. His head smacked the plaster and he sneered but otherwise made no move to retaliate.

Wendy punched him once and Bill reached up to grab at the newly forming bruise. Either twin grabbed and tried to pull her arms back and separate them. Wendy knocked one of them back and punched Bill again and Dipper could swear a small crack sounded through the room. This time Bill cried out and he slumped against her hold at his chest.

"What is going on in here?" Stan called as he walked in to see the chaos and quickly pushed himself into the conflict. "Enough! Wendy, let him go!" he yelled, pulling the girl back and away from the demon.

Bill slid down the wall with the release of support and Mabel ran to his side to check on him.

"You know what he did!" Wendy screamed, "You know he's dangerous! Why is he still alive?!"

Stan grabbed her by the shoulders and tried to get her to turn away from the demon. "I don't have an answer that won't sound stupid. You'd have to ask Ford. The only reason I'm going along with it is because the kids asked me to."

Wendy glared past her employer, "I'm not going to let him cause mayhem again!"

"You don't have to." Stan assured, "He's heard his rules. If he hurts anyone, disobeys anyone, or goes anywhere without an authorized figure, he'll be punished and in worst case, killed. It's been thought out and planned and backed up just in case."

"He hurt my family, I'm not going to let him just get away with that!" She yelled, trying to lunge again.

"Wendy-Wendy, listen." Stan grabbed her by the sides of her head to force her to take her attention off of Bill.

Wendy stopped struggling and looked at Stan with a sigh. The way he held her reminded her of her father and she calmed at the reassurance.

"You don't have to like him, you just can't kill him without a good reason"

Wendy was quiet for several moments, "Can I hit him just a little?" she asked, looking up at Stan with sad eyes.

Stan shook his head in a negative.

"Come on, just a little? I'll just break his nose a teensy bit."

"You may already have." Dipper called as he held one of the towels Bill had been folding up to his bloody nose. His entire nose was red and purple and it had spread to his eyes ever so slightly.

Wendy scoffed, "Serves him right"

Stan sighed and walked over to Bill, bending down. "Come on, lean forward and breathe through your mouth. Dipper, go get an ice pack." He instructed and they each complied. It didn't take long for the bleeding to stop.

"How'd you know to do that?" Mabel asked, looking up at her great uncle in awe as Dipper returned with the homemade pack.

"You get in enough fist fights and you learn a thing or two." Stan admitted, pulling the rag back to look at his nose again. He handed the ice pack to Bill and he took it, placing it gently to the bruised area. He winced at the cold and pulled it back slightly. "Keep it there." Stan ordered, pushing it up into his face ever so slightly harder than necessary, "It doesn't look too bad, probably just a minor fraction. Keep the ice on it for now and just hope Ford doesn't have to pop it back into place."

Stan left soon after and Wendy stepped slightly closer, the scowl still present on her face. Bill glanced up and smirked as best he could with the ice and bruise.

"I hate you." she hissed, glaring daggers into Bill's head.

Bill smiled even more, causing his nose to flare from being scrunched. "Why would you think that? I'm lovely."

Wendy kicked him in the shin and left the room.

* * *

 **A/N**

 **Bill really isn't helping himself much, is he.**

 **I'd been planning Wendy's reaction for so long. You know that moment when you get a perfect idea in your head but when you try to remove it through your ears it gets too scrunched up to be anything good. Yeah. That's what this is.**

 **Don't forget to favorite and comment your thoughts on how it's going so far and what you think will happen in future chapters. I'd like to know if you guys think I'm being extremely predictable or not. Not that much of the real plot has come in yet...**


	6. Rain Falls

Bill winced as Ford prodded his nose. Despite the demon's protests, the elder man kept touching the bruised skin.

"Not even ten in the morning and you're already getting into trouble." Ford muttered and Bill scowled, pretending not to hear.

Bill sat on his knees in front of Ford, who sat on the edge of Stan's old recliner. Bill clenched his fists and had a hard time finding a place to look. It felt weird to just stare at Ford, but there really wasn't anywhere else to look. He blamed the human mind's tendency to doubt one's self.

Ford poked a particularly sensitive spot on the side of Bill's nose and the demon winced.

"Would you stop that?" the demon spat but kept still afraid of pushing himself farther into one of the twelve fingers that felt the surrounding areas for fractures and worked at applying medicated ointment.

"I'm trying to make sure you're not in any serious danger." Ford replied in a scolding tone.

"Don't get mad at me." Bill said, feeling the animosity from the other, "It was Red that punched me."

"I would too" Ford mumbled and Dipper chuckled in the background.

Bill scoffed.

"Would you hold still?" Ford ordered, pulling his head to a steady position and prodding at the demon's nose again.

"Ouch!" Bill whined, pulling back when Ford touched the sensitive area again. Ford grabbed his head and pulled him back once more, moving quicker albeit rougher. Bill's eyes watered slightly and he closed them quickly, willing the tears back.

Stupid human emotion.

"O-okay, okay, I'll be still. Stop going so fast," Bill asked when the less tender places began to sting more with the treatment.

Ford sighed and stopped for a minute, pulling back and leaning on his knees.

Bill dropped back to sit on his feet, tilting his head down. He felt the need to sniffle, but the pain in his nose kept him from even attempting. He could feel the snot run down to his lip and he almost grimaced but was too afraid of the pain it would bring.

A touch at his shoulder caused him to look up to see Mabel with a tissue. She handed it to him and he wiped up the dripping mucus as best he could without touching the appendage.

"Okay, let me see again" Ford called, using one of his hands to gesture him closer. Bill swallowed down saliva and handed the tissue to Mabel's outstretched hand then moved back up to his knees. Ford finished quickly with a numbing ointment then handed him a pair of pills and a glass of water.

"Will this even work on me?" Bill asked eyeing the pills. They were obviously some form of pain killer, but with less than 1/100th of his knowledge remaining, he couldn't tell which kind without the bottle.

"We'll just have to find out" Ford replied.

Bill popped the pills into his mouth then carefully took a large swallow of the liquid.

"Drink it all" Ford ordered when Bill reached to put the glass down. Bill sighed and downed the rest of the liquid, letting out a large breath when it had all gone down.

Dipper took the glass from Bill, who wiped the remaining dribble on his sleeve. Ford stood and followed Dipper into the kitchen, quickly washing remaining blood and mucus from his hands in the sink.

* * *

Bill was instructed to stay with Ford after lunch since the twins were packing and Stan was busy with tourists. Ford was clearly uncomfortable to have the demon in his lab, making Bill uncomfortable to be there.

He'd been sat in a swivel chair and he turned back and forth to ease his boredom, every once in a while giving it a good push to make him spin all the way around. The chair was old and in major need of maintenance. It squeaked every couple minutes and every time, Ford would tense and turn to look at the demon who would hesitate before continuing.

It squeaked once more and Ford sighed, nearly slamming his papers onto the desk.

Bill stopped and watched him closely. Ford had been pretty unpredictable the last day and Bill wanted to be ready to run if necessary. His nose still throbbed from earlier, proving to be the most annoying of his current injuries, but the ones from not even forty-eight hours ago still buzzed every once in awhile.

Ford stood and walked to the bookshelf, browsing the titles for a moment before pulling one from the case. He turned and walked back to his desk, putting his computer to rest.

"Come on, Cipher" Ford called as he walked toward the exit and Bill quickly followed, happy to be leaving the basement. Ford checked the monitors and waited nearly five minutes for all of the current tourists to walk out before stepping into the elevator. They rode it to the top and stepped out and through the secret door that was a vending machine.

Wendy gave an exaggerated sigh when the two walked into the room. It was obviously meant for Bill, but he chose to believe she just didn't like Ford.

"Hey, dudes" Soos greeted as they entered.

Bill smirked at the man's greeting, "Question Mark" he nodded.

Soos chuckled nervously before turning back to the shelf he was restocking.

Ford grabbed Bill by the back of his shirt, "That's enough of you" he said exasperatedly and pulled him through to the other room and out onto the back patio. Ford pushed him into the cushions of the orange, tattered sofa before taking a seat on the opposite side.

It was sprinkling outside and Bill found himself entranced by the falling droplets. He turned to see Ford opening his novel. When he turned back to the rain, he felt a pang ignite inside his chest. He wanted to go touch it.

Human curiosity, he blamed.

Bill started to get up then remembered the rules. Don't go anywhere without permission. He looked over to see Ford looking at him. His stare was unnerving. As good as it would feel to purposely disobey the rules he'd been given, he didn't want to destroy the chance to go to the rain.

"Uh...can I?" he asked, pointing awkwardly to the ground between them and the forest.

Ford's eyebrows furrowed but he nodded after a moments hesitation. "Don't go far." he instructed and Bill nodded.

Bill stood and walked over to the edge of the porch, raising his hand to feel the splash of each drop. He gasped. It was so wet. He smiled and looked back to Ford who continued to furrow his brow. Bill payed him no heed and stepped further into the rain, then all the way in. He held his hands out and tilted his face back.

In his millions of years of life, he'd never had the chance to stand in the rain when in physical form. He hadn't even known he'd wanted to until he had seen the rain falling. Of course he'd been in dreams where it was raining and he'd seen it, but never before been able to really feel it. It was so much better than he'd imagined. And the smell. Even through a nose that felt broken and stuffed, he could smell it. The must and pine mixed into such a comforting concoction. Who knew dirt could smell so good!

He laughed out loud and belatedly realized this was the first time in a while that it wasn't entirely psychotic. He looked back to Ford again to see him looking less concerned and more surprised. He laughed at his face and smiled.

As the rain picked up and drenched his clothes, Ford called him back and made him stand to the side rather than wetting the couch.

He shivered slightly from the cool breeze and wet clothes, but couldn't bring himself to care. It was all so beautiful and the rain just intensified the colors of the world, making them brighter than before.

"Come on, Bill." Ford called, closing his book. Bill couldn't help but notice the dramatic change in the bookmark. Just how long had they been out there? "Let's go in. You need to dry off before you catch a cold."

Bill nodded and wrapped his hands around his exposed arms as they walked in. Ford had him stand in the hall while he ran to get a towel and Bill couldn't help but think that Ford was breaking the rule of him being supervised at all times, but decided not to mention it.

Ford was back quickly with a towel and Bill wrapped it around his shoulders.

"Why don't you go take a shower before dinner." Ford suggested, dropping another towel on the floor to mop up the water that had been dripped.

Bill nodded and looked back over at him, "Where?"

Ford looked up at him then picked up the towels and motioned him to follow as he showed Bill which bathroom to use.

He turned on the light and twisted the knobs to turn on the water. "Go on, I'll get you some clean clothes."

Bill quickly undressed and stepped in under the water. It was different from how the rain had felt. Warmer. Much warmer. Harder than the soft rain had been, even after picking up. The faucet was steady but strong. It would've felt relaxing if not for the bruises and cuts that littered his frame.

The sound of the door opening caught Bills attention and he turned to see that no figures could be made through the thick shower curtain. He pulled the curtain back some to see Ford setting a stack of clothing by the sink.

Ford turned to see him there and quickly pivoted away when the man who knew no modesty let the curtain open a little to far. "Stay here when you're done. I'll be back in a few minutes." He instructed then left, closing the door behind him.

Bill smirked slightly then turned back to the water. Not even a day in and Six Fingers was already slipping up in his own set of rules.

* * *

 **A/N**

 **Guys, I got The Journal. I have been unable to put it down for the last two days. It is so cool!**

 **I wasn't sure if I was going to leave the rain scene, but I kinda wanted to have a moment of, hey! this guy is experiencing things! after the last angsty scenes.**

 **What do you guys think so far? Let me know in the comments and don't forget to follow the story to get updates for future chapters.**


	7. Earning Keep

Bill hesitated at the door of the room they made him sleep in.

He remembered how miserable it had been the night before and how little he wanted to experience that again so soon after. His hair was still slightly damp from the shower and that wouldn't help him at all when it came to the cold that would come eventually. He wouldn't even be able to work on his design for several hours.

"Wait," Bill said, turning to see Stanley right behind him. He held his hand out to keep the other from pushing him in. "do I really have to go to bed now? It's only what, eight o' clock?" He tried.

Stan glared at him and Bill shrunk back a little. He'd seen Stan mad, and he really didn't want to push him if he could avoid it, especially with the still healing wounds of the past few days, but he couldn't help wanting to delay the inevitable.

"I-I mean, come on, I'm not a kid. Even the twins aren't being sent to bed yet"

Stan's scowl grew further and Bill nearly gave up and stepped back.

"That's true, the kids aren't going to bed yet. However, the kids also aren't under the strict rule to be watched 24/7 and aren't currently being held as a convict. Did you forget that no one here cares what you want?" Stan asked and pushed him back and into the room. Bill stumbled over his own feet and fell to the floor, the majority of the fall being taken by his hip. "Stop acting like a baby."

Bill winced when the door slammed shut and he heard it lock from the outside.

The worst part about it all was that he wouldn't be tired enough to sleep for several hours. The sun had only recently gone down and the heat was almost enough to make Bill sweat.

Bill sighed. He stood and removed his shirt, absentmindedly scratching at the area around a few of the larger gashes that had been bandaged with gauze and tape.

It took what seemed like an eternity of tossing and turning on the bed before the previous night's lack of sleep caught up with him and he soon closed his eyes and fell asleep.

* * *

Dipper tugged his vest around him tighter as he reached the door to Bill's room. The key was grabbed from the hook on the wall and Dipper opened the door. Bill was curled in on himself on the bed, the entirety of the blanket wrapped around and under him to conserve warmth.

"Bill," Dipper called, not necessarily wanting to walk closer to the demon.

Bill didn't move and Dipper called again, louder this time. The fiend groaned and slowly sat up in the bed, pulling the blankets closer and rubbing at his eyes.

"Come on, breakfast is ready." Dipper said, catching the eye of the young man.

Bill nodded quietly and followed the boy upstairs, clutching his hands around his arms and hoping he would get a seat in the sun.

Just as the night before, he'd been awoken before sunrise and had gotten to work slightly more on the circle while the others slept. There was still a ways to go and, so far, his only chance to work on it had been night. Though 'so far' was only two days.

Just as the previous morning, the Pines were sitting at the breakfast table eating their food. Bill sat down and a plate of flat, brown cakes topped in whipped cream and syrup and a cup of tea were set in front of him. His eyebrows rose in surprise.

"Don't give me that look" Stan said, walking to the door. "It's the kid's last day. Don't think it's for you." He left the room with a grumble to go get ready to open.

Bill smiled slightly as he grabbed his fork and took a bite. It was so good! Why hadn't he ever thought to try this before? They were fluffy and moist and sweet. He quickly brought up another bite, pushing it into his mouth and spilling some syrup down his chin.

"You like it?" Mabel asked around her own bite of pancake. Bill nodded and used the back of his hand to wipe away the stickiness. He frowned slightly when he found just because he wiped it didn't mean it was away.

Bill took a long sip of the tea to wash down some of the sweetness then resumed eating the breakfast cake. He mentally chided the two guardians at having been so careless as to feed children desserts for breakfast but couldn't gather the desire to make it verbal.

Stan's words from mere minutes ago came to the forefront of his mind and Bill slowed to contemplate them. It was the kid's last day. They'd be going home. He grinned and shoveled another bite into his mouth.

He was happy they were leaving. Less people meant it was more likely he'd be left alone. He'd have more time to carry out his plan without the worries of children barging in on him.

Ford looked up when he heard the slight chuckle the demon-turned-human uttered. The grin on his face was slightly unsettling and Ford couldn't help but wonder what was going on in his mind. Scratch that - he didn't want to know. If that look said anything, it was probably something sick and twisted.

Ford turned to look at the kids. They were both solemnly eating their breakfast and neither seemed to be focused on any one thing.

He'd miss them.

That much he knew.

The bus was scheduled to pick them up at 2:00. That meant they had five hours for them to finish the last of their packing and for the family to spend some time together before they left.

He sighed and picked up his plate and took it to the sink. "Why don't you two finish packing once you're done eating?" he suggested, walking back to the table for his cup of tea.

"I still can't believe this is the last day." Dipper said ever so slightly glummer than usual, "It feels like it passed so quickly."

Mable smiled at him, "It's okay, we'll be back next year and over Christmas break."

"That'll be fun," Ford said, "Maybe we'll be able to catch the Jólakötturinn."

Dippers eye widened the size of saucers, "What's that?"

"A giant carnivorous cat with taste buds for humans. He only ever comes out around Christmas but old folklore says he'd eat anyone without new clothes."

"And you'll let me help you find him?" Dipper asked

"Sure, I don't see why not." Ford didn't miss the slight scoff from Bill, but ignored it.

Ford sipped at his tea as the kids and Bill finished up the rest of their breakfast. The kids put their plates at the sink when done and left to go pack as requested of them. Bill took the last bite of his pancakes then lifted his glass. Ford scowled at the way Bill sat blowing and sipping the tea like a normal human.

They locked eyes and Ford glared, trying to keep up the firm front his brother had scolded him about dropping the night before. Stan was right. He needed to keep Bill in line and he couldn't do that if he continued to cower in front of him and let the rules slip every time he dropped his guard.

"Bill, I want you to do the dishes." Ford finally said, giving himself a reason to get out of the job.

Bill frowned, "Ha ha, very funny"

The response caused Ford to glare, and Bill's eyes widened.

"Oh, you're not joking." Bill commented and set down his cup. "Come on, Sixer, I've never done that in my life. I'll break them before cleaning them."

"Well, you're not about to live here the rest of your life thinking you can get away with a measly 'I don't know how'-"

"Hey," Bill interrupted, "I didn't say I didn't know how, just that I'd never done it before."

"It's time you do." Ford said and motioned with his head for the demon to get to the sink.

"Fine, just don't blame me if I mess it up." Bill sighed and grabbed his nearly empty cup, taking it to the sink. He turned on the tap and filled one side with soap and water. Once it reached mid way he turned it off and dunked a plate in. The look of confusion on his face when he pulled it out to see the syrup still present almost made Ford laugh.

He held it in as much as possible, "Use the sponge, Bill."

Bill glanced back at him then looked to the window sill to see a yellow sponge. He grabbed it and put the dish back under the water with the sponge in hand. It was pulled up too quickly for him to have done anything with it and again Bill looked frustrated that it wasn't cleaning itself.

"You have to wipe the sponge on the dish to get it off"

Bill sighed and tried again. He scrubbed a little too hard and some of the suds flew up and got on his shirt. He grimaced and swatted at the spots. One glance to Ford and he went back to work. Once he'd scrubbed it clean he rinsed it under the tap and set it on the dish rack.

It was sparkly clean and Ford smiled thinking of how happy Dipper would be that his chore was being taken up by someone else. To bad it was on his last day here.

* * *

 **A/N**

 **Okay, so I'm starting to feel like these chapters aren't getting anywhere. What's your opinion? Longer chapters and longer wait time or shorter chapters and shorter wait times? Just let me know!**

 **Oh! And I decided to add some foretelling in this chapter for a future plot point. It probably won't be for many chapters as the last 6 chapters have only taken up what, two days? But the Jólakötturinn was really fun to study up on and is honestly, one of the creepiest creatures I have ever seen. It kinda reminded me of a skinny version of the Cheshire cat from Alice in Wonderland, except Tim Burton's live action depiction. *shivers* That thing always gave me nightmares.**


	8. Calming Down

By the time Bill had finished dishes, Stan and the kids had joined them back in the kitchen. Stan had helped Wendy and Soos open the gift shop then left them to it so he could spend some time with the kids. Dipper and Mabel had brought their backpacks down the stairs and had set them on the kitchen table.

It was quickly decided that they would go spend time at the waterpark and, since Bill couldn't be in public, Bill was locked in his room with a water bottle and a baloney sandwich.

The kids smiled as they slid into the red car that was their grunkle's. They hadn't been to the water park since the beginning of the summer.

"You think it will be crowded?" Ford asked as Stan started the car and pulled out of the parking space.

"Who knows? It's the end of summer so it could be, but people could be getting ready to go back to school." Stan said and took off down the road. They arrived quickly and Ford paid for their admittance and they went in.

It was only mildly busy which, in retrospect, made sense due to the heat. The kids were quick to jump into the water and Stan followed soon after. Ford hesitated once he got a glance at the germ infested, urine filled pool.

"Come on, Poindexter!" Stan called.

Ford grimaced, "You know, I think I'll just sit in the shade"

Mabel awed and Stan called him a chicken. He didn't notice until it was too late that Dipper had sneaked up behind him with the intents of pushing him into the pool. He quickly surfaced and spat to rid his mouth of the chlorine flavored liquid.

The three laughed at his expense and he soon found himself laughing along with them.

The family played until noon where they then pulled out a lunch and ate at the poolside. Dipper was getting into a conversation with Ford on his theories of microscopic monsters living in the pool when Stan heard Mabel sigh as she finished off a bite of her sandwich.

"What the matter, Pumpkin?" Stan asked, setting down his sandwich in exchange for a half-full can of soda.

Mabel looked up at him then set her sandwich down. "I just feel bad for Bill."

Stan nearly choked on the carbonated syrup. He sputtered and took a deep breath before speaking, "You don't have to feel bad for him."

"I know I shouldn't," Mabel said, looking over to the pool, "but I feel bad swimming and having fun while he's stuck in the basement with nothing to do."

Stan sighed. Mabel was a sweet girl. Her and her brother had been the only two people to stand up for Bill when he had first been turned human. He was sure Bill appreciated that at least a little. In any case, he couldn't stand to see her down, no matter what it was about. He could humor her for a little if that's what it took to get the smile back on her face.

"Why don't we head home after lunch? We can grab some ice cream on the way home so that Bill gets to participate as well, hm?" He asked, smiling down at his great niece.

Mabel smiled back and nodded, "Okay, but only if it's rainbow sherbet."

Nearly a quarter after one, the four of them packed up and headed home, stopping by the convenience store for the treat. They'd only have a short time to eat it before the bus came so they'd have to hurry.

* * *

Bill grunted as he forced the knife into the wood, creating a notch that would eventually spell out an ancient word. His sandwich had been left, entirely forgotten in his haste to finish his circle. Not thirty minutes after the Pines' had left, Bill had gotten back to work on his display. It was so much easier to work in the daylight because he could actually see what he was doing, but the danger was greater. He knew Wendy and Soos stood nearly right above him, greeting travelers as they entered the tacky gift shop. He knew he had to try and stay quiet to keep them from hearing him, but he couldn't stop the escaping sound that came with exhaustion.

The knife slammed down again and Bill grunted once more. The already weak blade of the butter knife had quickly dulled as he used it against its intended purpose. It was becoming harder to make visible changes in the wood and he wondered if the splintered bits would actually work for his plans.

No.

They had to work.

He was almost done. He could practically feel his freedom already. Bill shoved the knife in for the last time and tossed it behind him.

"What are you doing?"

Bill's stomach dropped and he turned to see Stan standing in the door and quickly approaching. Lost in his trance of finishing, he hadn't even heard the approaching man nor the opening door.

He swallowed down his heart and placed both hands onto the edges of the circle. It glowed faintly green then died as his hands were forced away. He looked back just in time to see Stan had pulled him by his shoulder. The aged man's eyes were fury as he nearly threw Bill over the bed and across the room. Bill grunted on impact.

"Wait!" Bill shouted as Stan bent down to look at the carving, "It's not what it looks like!" He quickly rushed to stop the man. He pulled on Stan's arm just to be pushed away again. He skidded across the floor nearly a yard and came to a stop just short of the wall.

Stan stared at it a moment before his shoulder blades tensed and he turned with rage in his eyes. He moved over to the door, eyes locked on Bill.

"Ford, get down here!" he shouted.

It didn't take long for Ford to walk down the stairs and nonchalantly into the room. His eyes darkened the moment he felt the tension. He walked over to where Stan was pointing and bent down to examine the etchings.

"This is- You were trying to open a portal!" Ford accused stomping over to Bill. Bill quickly stood and his arms raised in defense as he stepped back to match the man's pace. He tripped over his feet and caught himself just as Ford reached him, Stan close behind.

Bill's eyes filled with tears and his hands raised if only to keep the twins back slightly, "Please" he begged, though he didn't know for sure what he was begging for. _Let me finish. Don't hurt me. Let me go_. Any of these were valid continuations.

Stan drew back his fist and punched Bill in the jaw. The demon couldn't hold back the cry of pain as he toppled to the side. Stan was so much stronger than Wendy. Ford grabbed at the collar of his shirt and pulled him close to his face.

"Did you think we wouldn't find out?" Ford yelled, feeling satisfied when spittle landed on Bill's cheek. The demon didn't dare try to remove it.

Ford shook the demon, "Well!?" He shouted, "I expect an answer!"

"I-I" Bill stumbled, trying to form an even slightly intelligent sentence.

Ford lost his patience. "This is not the end if this." He spat and threw Bill's head back to collide with the wall. He looked up to his twin, "Watch him"

Assured that Bill was in capable hands, Ford stood and left the room, walking up the stairs to find the twins staring with wide eyes at the doorway that lead to the basement.

"Great Uncle Ford, what's going on down there?" Dipper asked, looking to Ford with pleading eyes. Mabel sobbed once and quickly covered her mouth with her hand. Ford shook his head and headed outside to the shed. He quickly grabbed his instrument of choice and headed back in.

Mabel whimpered at the sight of the ax but didn't otherwise speak as Ford descended the stairs. He wasn't surprised when they followed behind.

"You're gonna use that?" Stan nearly shouted as Ford entered the room. Bill saw the object and became increasingly more vocal, backing himself into the corner. The kids had the right enough mind to stay out off the room but watched silently from the doorway.

"Stanford, calm down please!" Bill begged when Ford started walking farther into the room.

"Would you shut up!" Ford yelled at Bill, who clamped his jaw and squeezed his eyes shut. Ford otherwise ignored Bill, turning back to his brother to answer his question, "What do you expect me to do?! We can't just leave it!"

"Yeah, but maybe this isn't the way to go!" Stan yelled back, becoming just as heated as Ford. He didn't like the way Ford was treating Bill like an object instead of a living being. _It_ was only for objects.

"You don't understand! It can't stay here!"

"Ford, listen to me, I understand you're mad, but you can't do this with the kids here" Stan said, ever so slightly quieter than a minute ago as he tried to calm Ford before he did something rash. "You're scared, we all are, but you can't just do this!"

"Watch me." Ford sneered.

 **A/N**

 **I am so mean, I know...**

 **Okay guys, this mark the beginning of my school semester, so for the most part my posting days are going to shift to Friday. I'll try to post the next chapter earlier next week because I know I left you on a nasty cliffhanger, but just bare with me as I work through the transition. Seriously guys, I'm a home schooler going to college... I have no idea if what I'm doing is correct 99% of the time. It's exhilarating.**

 **As always, comments are much appreciated and feel free to follow the story for later updates.**

 **See you next time!**


	9. Trouble Maker

**A/N**

 **Happy Labor day to all of my American readers and happy Monday to the rest of y'all!**

 **Okay, so the last chapter had more reviews than any of the other chapters. I want to thank you guys so much for your support. I've found just looking through your kind words has been a huge motivation for me.**

 **You guys also care just a smidge too much about Bill... You naughty, naughty children. He's the bad guy, at least to every other person in this tale. Honestly though, it's super great that you guys are getting attached to the characters. It means I have more control over your emotions, Mwhahahahaha! Did that sound too evil? Oh well, I don't care.**

 **Now what are you doing? Go read the chapter!**

* * *

 _Previously_

 _"You didn't see it! It can't stay here!"_

 _"Ford, listen to me, I understand you're mad, but you can't do this with the kids here" Stan said, ever so slightly quieter than a minute ago as he tried to calm Ford before he did something rash. "You're scared, we all are, but you can't just do this"_

 _"Watch me." Ford sneered._

Stan grabbed his shoulder and forced Ford to look at him, "Stanford, look at yourself!"

"It's not your house! If I say it's getting destroyed with an ax, it's getting destroyed with an ax!"

"Then take it outside! Come on, don't do this with the kids here!" Stan begged. A quiet sob was heard from Mabel then quick puttering up the stairs.

Ford turned to where the kids had stood and sighed, "How on earth would I take it outside? It's carved into the floor."

Stan froze and stared at him for several long seconds, "Oh thank God" he whispered, dropping to his knees, his hands still grasping at Ford's elbows.

Ford stared back at him confused for a moment before understanding lit his face, coupled with a deep horror, "You thought-...no, Stanley, no. I'm gonna destroy the circle he made"

Stan chuckled humorlessly, "I realize that now."

Bill visibly relaxed at the sound he wouldn't be slaughtered with an ax. He slumped down to the floor as Ford moved to his creation. A sense of major loss filled him as soon as the steel met wood and ripped through his attempt at communication. Hours of manual labor, completely wasted. Not only that, but due to the discovery, he probably wouldn't get another attempt any time soon.

Ford hacked into the floor a dozen times before being satisfied that it was completely destroyed. He turned back to look at his twin and gestured to the floor beside him, "You might want to have Soos take a look at this."

Stan nodded and sighed, standing and turning back to go comfort the kids.

Ford turned to look at the curled up Bill before tossing up the ax to grab it at a lower point. He set it on the bedside table then walked over to the demon. Pulling his belt off, he tied it tight around the demon's wrists, unwilling to stop for either the grunts of pain coming from the younger body or the loss of the belt as it's leather facing stretched and warped to the tight pull.

Ford pulled Bill up and to the bathroom where he tied the remainder of the belt around the base of the sink. He stared at Bill for a moment then went back for his ax and left the room, locking it behind him. The demon would just have to stay there until he found the time to deal with him. Right then, he had more important things to deal with.

He let out a shaky breath as adrenaline left him and he climbed the stairs. In the kitchen, Mabel was drying tears off of her face and Dipper was staring with a semi blank stare of both horror and anger.

"Come on, guys," he called, catching their attention as he set the ax down by the refrigerator. "we're gonna miss the bus."

Dipper grabbed their bags and Mabel grabbed Waddles and both followed slightly farther back than normal from their Grunkle as he lead the way through the gift shop to the front door. They quietly headed out the door and down the short ways to the bus stop. It was scheduled to be there in no more than ten minutes.

Ford sat down on the bench by the bus stop sign and sighed heavily. Mabel sat down next to him and put a hand on his shoulder. He turned to see the sadness and pleading in her doe brown eyes and nearly turned away when he realized she was going to ask the unthinkable.

"No." he said firmly but her gaze never changed, instead her lip protruded into a small pout. "Mabel, I can't,"

Tears filled her eyes, "Please, Grunkle Ford, don't-..." she couldn't even say the word.

"What do you expect me to do, Mabel?"

"I know he's bad, I know, but you can't. He's only doing what he is to be able to be himself again. You just have to show him it's not that bad to be as he is."

"And what if he never takes that?"

"What if he does?" Mabel argued.

Her point didn't make any sense when thinking logically. When weighing the options, the odds of him taking it versus not were very lopsided, but it was Mable. She had a way of making illogical things sound rational. It was silent for several moments and both turned when they saw the bus approaching farther down the rode. It was early.

"Please, promise me you won't kill him." Mabel begged, saying the one word she'd been avoiding the entire conversation. She held out her pinky for a pinky promise, "Please, I won't be able to leave knowing he's in danger."

What if we're in danger? Ford wanted to say, but bit his tongue, "If he does this again, I won't be able to keep this promise." he said, taking Mabel's outstretched pinky in his.

She smiled, "That's all I ask for."

Ford sighed as he saw the bus pull up to the bench. Each twin took their turn hugging and thanking their great uncles and one by one hopped onto the bus.

"Don't forget your promise" Mabel shouted as she picked up her pig and bag and waved. The door shut and the bus drove off.

"What promise?" Stan asked as they watched the bus disappear behind a hill.

"You don't want to know." Ford sighed and together they walked back to the shack.

* * *

Ford and Stan got back to the shack just after 2:30.

They walked in to see Wendy at the register, Soos helping a lady reach something on the top shelf, and a half dozen or so travelers mucking about the store.

Ford told Stan he was going to check on Bill and left the gift shop. The basement loomed so much darker than it had in the past. It's shadows seemed darker and the smell came across muskier. The key that hung on the loop outside the bedroom felt heavier than it had not even an hour ago.

He slid the metal into metal and twisted until he heard the click. Six fingers wrapped loosely around the door handle and he opened the door.

The room was just as he'd left it. The wooden bed frame was still positioned half way into the room and the chopped up section of the floor still stood out like a spot of black on a white paper.

Ford walked over to the bathroom and peaked in to see the belted, drowsy demon's head bobbing as he tried to stay alert. He kneeled next to the smaller frame and shook Bill's knee to rouse him.

Sleepy slitted eyes looked up at him before going back down to his lap.

Ford's brows knitted and he undid the belts around Bill's wrists, wincing at the raw sores on the demon's skin. Bill dropped his hands when they were released and made no move to stand. His mind fought with him on feeling pity for the demon. This was Bill. Why should he feel sorry when just two days ago, Bill had submitted him to worse tortures. But this body was weak and he found his heart breaking at the sight of it. His brother was right. He really did need to man up.

"Bill," Ford called, trying to get his attention. Bill looked up at him after a few seconds, "how do you feel?"

Bill stared at him for a few moments with furrowed brows, "Why do you care."

Ford sighed, "I guess I don't." he grit his teeth and sat down beside the demon.

"..My head hurts..." Bill whispered. A moment passed before he glanced over to Ford then back to his lap, "How's Fez's hand?"

Ford chuckled slightly, surprised the demon would even think to ask of that, "Probably worse than he'll let me treat it for."

"Really?" Bill asked, pealing his eyes open to look at Ford. He didn't sound interested and quickly closed his eyes again.

It was quiet for several minutes. Ford was almost convinced Bill had fallen asleep when he saw the slight trembling of the demon's hands.

"Bill, I honestly don't know what to do with you." Ford sighed. "You've made more trouble than your worth and frankly, I can't really ignore the facts"

Bill's head bobbed slightly when he swallowed, his Adam's apple dancing with the movement, "If you're going to kill me, just do it"

Ford scoffed, "I'm not a cold blooded murderer."

"Yeah, and I'm not human. What's your point?"

Ford chose not to answer when the only words that came to his mind were ones that said Mabel made him pinky promise. Better to not give the demon a loophole to work with. He sighed and stood, helping the Bill up. He'd have to come up with other sleeping arrangements for him since being alone in a room was apparently out of the question. Together they walked up the stairs and to the kitchen for first aid.

It wasn't until later that night after they had all gone to bed that the splintered mess glowed green once more. It twitched and struggled to stay lit in the shambles before a gruff, muffled sound came through.

 _"Bill, we're coming for you..."_

The light fizzled and died, leaving the empty room shrouded in darkness.

* * *

 **A/N**

 **Ta-da!**

 **This brings the first arc to an end. Short, but still complete (that reminded me of Stitch). TBH, I didn't even realize I was accidentally writing actual arcs until the end of this. You'll have to tell me if I'm doing it wrong.**

 **Quick shout out to Quiet Leaf for being the first to guess that Ford had no intentions of using the ax on Bill. BTW, I loved your Fullmetal Alchemist AU...**

 **The next arc will be posted Friday, September 15th. See you then!**


	10. To Keep A Prisoner

Bill sighed as he lay on the floor in the dark.

It had been Ford's solution. To put him in the same room as him, on a pile of blankets on the floor, cuffed to a column heater that had been nailed to the wall which, fortunately, stayed off in the summer heat. He silently wondered what Ford planned on doing in the winter when the heaters warmth was necessary. Surely he wouldn't leave him there next to the boiling heat?

His hand was beginning to go numb from being held in one spot above his head for so long. For a moment he wondered how hard it would be to pull the screws out of the drywall and two by fours. One tug and a loud clank from the cuffs later had him holding his breath and begging Ford to still be asleep.

Ford wasn't. He jumped at the noise and turned to put on his glasses. He stared down at him for several moments before turning back over and laying down. Thirty years in other dimensions had clearly taught him to sleep with one eye open.

"Go to sleep," Ford nearly hissed. Bill closed his eyes, trying to follow the order.

It was odd, now that he thought about it. He'd been absolutely exhausted before dinner, but now, he couldn't sleep no matter how hard he tried.

Bill turned slightly and the cuff rattled. He winced and turned back to look at Ford in time to hear an exaggerated sigh. Ford turned to his back and Bill could just barely make out the lines of his face against the black. The windows in the bedroom were covered by thick curtains so most of the little light there was had been coming from the miscellaneous trinkets all around the room, but mostly piled on Ford's desk.

The cuffs rattled again when Bill tried to rest his near paralyzed arm on the cold metal.

"Would you go to sleep?" Ford nearly shouted.

"I can't," Bill said, turning a little more onto his side.

"Why not?"

"How should I know?"

Ford sighed and turned on the bedside lamp, both men wincing at the sudden light. He then stood and walked over to his desk. He rummaged through a drawer and pulled out a small bottle.

"Here," Ford said, handing him two dark purple pills, "take these"

Bill took them in his hand and looked at them suspiciously, "What are they?"

"Sleeping aids," Ford said, climbing onto the bed and pulling the covers up to his shoulders simultaneously. Ford flicked off the lights and set his glasses aside.

Bill stared at the pills in the dark for a moment more. If these were anything like the pain medication, they would work way more than he wanted them too. His new body wasn't used to things such as caffeine and medication so they easily worked on him faster and harder than on others. Though he couldn't bring himself to care enough and downed both pills dry.

It didn't take long for him to fall asleep on the pile of blankets, chained to a column heater.

* * *

When Ford awoke, he didn't feel nearly as refreshed as he would have liked. All accusations could be held to a certain tattooed demon who laid not ten feet away.

He sat up and rubbed at his face then grabbed his glasses from the nightstand, setting them in their accustomed place on the bridge of his nose. He stood and got ready for the day before grabbing a key and moving over to the fiend on the floor.

Bill was in a chaotic mess. The top blanket covered parts of his torso, one arm, and half of his face. The visible parts of his face showed a heavy sheen and slightly tinted cheeks and Ford reached down to feel his forehead for a temperature. There was one, but nothing bad enough to worry about.

He moved to shake Bill's shoulder, grimacing slightly at the clammy skin. Bill didn't react at all to the movement so Ford tried calling his name. The demon moaned quietly and turned into the pillow after the third call.

"Come on, get up" Ford ordered, pulling on Bill's arm to get better access to the chain. He unlocked the cuff and pulled Bill's wrist down, stopping when the demon hissed.

"Sorry," he mumbled then stood straight, giving the demon room to get up on his own. Bill didn't move, instead he pulled the blankets up and over his head again.

"Bill, no," Ford said, grabbing his arm and trying to pull him up, "I am not staying down here with you all day, get up."

Bill didn't respond and indifferently allowed Ford to pull him into a sitting position. He slumped in place and, on Ford's attempt to let go of his arms, he limply fell back onto the covers.

Ford sighed. Maybe the sleeping pills weren't the best idea. They sure had sounded great six hours ago. Of course, now he had a demon turned human that wouldn't move an inch.

With a frustrated scowl, Ford stood and left the room. He was not going to sit there with Bill all day. Besides, the demon was dead to reality. He wouldn't be surprised if he didn't wake until noon at the pace he was going.

Ford rode the elevator up to the ground floor and stepped out the vending machine. Popping oil drew his attention to the kitchen where he found Stan frying cubed potatoes and bacon.

"Smells good" he said, drawn in by the smell but stayed away from the piping hot oil.

"Where's the disturbance?" Stan asked as he pulled a carton of eggs from the fridge. The bright white bandage contrasted brilliantly on Stan's knuckles. It seemed he'd done his own first aid.

Ford turned to face his brother and leaned against the counter, a stickiness on his arm caused him to turn to find the forgotten tub of rainbow sherbet, "Down stairs, asleep"

"You left him by himself?" Stan asked as he set to cracking. Oddly enough, he didn't sound concerned, just curious.

"Yeah." Ford said, throwing the tub away and wiping the mess with a wet rag, "He kept me up last night so I gave him some Ambien to get him to go to sleep, but it seems to have been a larger dose than I anticipated. Or he's just more sensitive to the drug than I was."

Stan grunted an acknowledgement and poured the liquid yolks into the hot pan. Once finished with the ice cream, Ford helped by heating water for tea and instant coffee and soon the brothers were sitting at the table eating breakfast together.

"Have you decided what you're going to do with him now that he's more trouble than he's worth?" Stan asked before taking a sip of his cheap coffee.

Ford finished the food in his mouth before answering, "I think I'm gonna make him help me clean up the storage room, or maybe with some research in my study."

"Oh, yeah, cause that's a great idea." Stan said sarcastically, stabbing a potato and shoving it in his mouth.

Ford glanced up at his brother, "I have no idea what you mean, Stanley"

Stan scoffed, "Sure you don't. Let me guess, by this time tomorrow there's gonna be another one of your strange experiments in the dishwasher"

"For the record, it was the dryer. Besides, that's not the point" Ford said.

"It's exactly the point." Stan set his cup down and leaned forward, "Listen, Poindexter, I can't stop you from doing the things you want to do in your house, but I can't not warn you when I see it necessary. I don't think you really want Bill around your research. Look what he did to the journals. You're lucky they came back after we defeated him or you'd have lost years of research"

Ford sat back in his chair. His plate wasn't empty, but he felt full. "I know Bill probably has some big vendetta against us, honestly, I'm just trying to distract him to keep him from doing something stupid again. You know what they say, 'The best way to keep a prisoner from escaping is to make him forget he was ever locked up.'" he took a drink of his tea to help his suddenly parched throat, "Besides, I don't think I can kill him, Stanley."

"Why not?"

"For one, I promised Mabel. Aside from that, I just can't." He sighed, "As much as I hate to admit it, that idiot has me wrapped around his finger. Has since day one. He may be my enemy, but he was also once my friend. I don't think I could do it if I tried."

"You're in this too deep, this time." Stan warned, standing to dump the rest of the lukewarm coffee down the sink drain.

"I know," Ford sighed, and lifted his cup to his lips. The cup was set back down with the same amount of liquids as before he lifted it. "I know."

"If you're gonna have him help around the place, fine. I don't care, but while you're at it, teach him basic hygiene. He needs a toothbrush and a comb."

Ford gave him a weary grin. If Stan, a man who had a constant trail of flies on a good day, was commenting on the demon's hygiene...

"Yeah, I'll get on that"

 **A/N**

 **And that brings the first chapter of the second arc to an end.**

 **I've spent the short break rearranging things in my outline. Guys, this story is gonna be great. I'm so excited to write it! I just hope it translates well from brain to pen...or keyboard...**

 **Thanks for sticking around and don't forget to favorite, follow, and comment your reactions and opinions!**


	11. Pawn

Ford looked down at Bill for the second time that morning. The blanket had since been entirely wrapped around Bill's head, leaving his feet, legs, and nearly half of his torso exposed. He chuckled slightly at the sight before reaching down and pulling the blanket away.

Bill groaned and covered his head with his arms and turned into the pillow. He'd probably be offended if he knew how much Ford was comparing him to a typical teenager at that moment despite the fact he was much older than the average sixteen year old.

"Bill, it's nearly eleven. You can't keep sleeping" Ford said, grabbing the half empty glass on his bedside table from last night. He poured it over Bill's face and the demon writhed away from it, sputtering and cursing.

"Okay, I'm up!" Bill called hoarsely, sitting up and wiping his hand across his face. He shook his head to remove some of the remaining water, but stopped quickly with a wince and a hand to his forehead.

"Headache?" Ford asked unsympathetically.

"Yeah, and it's _your_ fault" Bill said. Apparently the demon had a tendency to be snappish and cranky when tired and in pain. Yet another thing to add to his list of things Bill did that reminded him of a teenager. Though as he thought about it, he realized most would probably react that way.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Get up, we're going shopping."

"Oh, yeah, cause that's a great idea," Bill scoffed

"What do you mean?"

Bill looked up at him with a face that said 'are you stupid?' and once again another thing was added, "I thought we'd already come to the agreement that I shouldn't go out in public? What do you think would happen if someone recognized me? They saw me, what? Three days ago? The towns people are stupid, but they're not complete idiots."

Ford thought about Bill's point. It was true that they'd all agreed Bill should stay hidden at the shack, but logically speaking, there was no way they could keep him locked up inside for the rest of his life. They'd have to take him in public eventually. Though Bill was right. Today wasn't the best idea and they'd probably take him out with sunglasses and a hoodie as disguise.

Ford sighed, "Okay, I guess you'll have to stay with Stanley hidden in the gift shop."

Bill groaned, "Come on, Sixer, can't I just sleep until you get back?"

"I'm not going to leave you in here by yourself."

"You can chain me back up if you need to, I just want to sleep"

Ford stared at the tattooed demon. He did look like he needed sleep, especially with all of the injuries still littering his body. The rest would probably do him some good. Ford nodded, "Okay, you win."

Bill gave a relieved sigh and turned the damp pillow onto the opposite side before plopping onto it. He held out his wrist in the general direction of the heater and Ford bent down to cuff him to it.

With that settled, Ford left, barely catching the faintest of murmurs from Bill as he slept away his headache. He felt his own headache coming on and he had a very large urge to name it after a certain tattooed demon.

Once upstairs, he found Stan in the gift shop entertaining a group of gullible tourists with an unnatural concoction of turtle, rabbit, and goat. It seemed once Stan saw his brother, he sped up the introduction of the "Decently Uncommon _Turaboat"_ and left them with a hat for the fees for photos.

"What's going on?" He asked once he'd gotten far enough away of potential eavesdroppers.

"Bill is still practically dead so I'm gonna leave him sleeping in the basement while I go get the necessities." Ford said, pulling on his six fingered gloves and checking his back pocket for his wallet, "If you get a free moment just... check on him, okay?"

Stan scowled, turning back to a smile when a woman walked by with her child, "I'm not a babysitter, Poindexter."

"And he's not a baby." Ford argued, "Just keep an ear out for anything unusual. I doubt he'll wake up anytime soon, especially if he's not disturbed, but I'd rather not go in to find a repeat of yesterday's incident"

Stan seemed to be weighing the options in his mind as his head shook back and forth a little before turning into a nod. "Okay, fine, I'll check in on the disturbance if I hear anything suspicious. You hurry back, I don't want to do this all day"

Ford nodded, "I should be back promptly."

He returned Soos' wave and Wendy's nod on his way out the door.

* * *

Bill roused slightly when he heard a faint bump from beside him. Still mostly unconscious and sure there was nothing else in the room, he ignored it. It wasn't until he heard a second bump and a quiet _psst_ that he felt the need to open his eyes and check his surroundings.

One eyelid peeked open and glanced around the room to find it empty. Assuming he'd been dreaming, he closed his eye.

" _Psst_ , Bill."

Now he was sure he'd heard something. He opened his eyes and glanced around the room once more. It wasn't until he heard the third _psst_ that he turned in its direction to find Ford's bed looking much more shrouded in darkness than it had been the last time he remembered seeing it. That wasn't just his imagination, right?

Two black balled eyes blinked open, revealing the previously invisible monster under the bed.

"8-Ball!" Bill said, sitting up, clamping his hand over his mouth and looking to the entrance of the bedroom when he realized how loud that'd been. No noise came for several moments and he turned back to the goblinesque figure before him. 8-Ball looked the same as always, though now that Bill was in human form, the undeniable stench of putrid flesh and sewer water were adamant against his features.

"What are you doing here?" Bill asked, ignoring his queasy stomach.

8-Ball glanced warily at the door, causing his eyes to flip before coming back into focus, "Your sorcery gave us your location. I've been waiting to contact you since your captor has been present."

Bill smirked. His plan had worked despite his original assumption. And to add to his glee, his lackeys had IQ's big enough to know to wait for a clear opening to contact him rather than just coming at any time and spoiling the surprise for either of the twins.

"You look different, Boss," 8-Ball said, crawling out of the bed slightly, the eerie blackness following him. The chains that stood fixed around his wrists and ankles clanked quietly at the movement. He stopped and turned back to the door once again making his eyes flip around in their sockets.

Bill scoffed, "Don't worry, with you guys here to help, I'll be back to normal soon enough."

8-Ball seemed to shrink back at Bill's words, "What is it?"

"It's the others," 8-Ball began, "they don't think you're alive. I tried to tell them, but they're convinced they saw your lifeless carcass on the street that day."

Bill's brows furrowed. Those traitors would have to be dealt with later, for now, he had the perfect plan set out in front of him on a silver platter. And 8-Ball would be his ace playing card.

His scowl twisted into a maniacal grin. "8-Ball, you are my favorite Pawn. You moved yourself when your king was down and have crossed the board to become my knight." Bill's eyes showed the gleam of a plan and 8-Ball was thrilled by the animosity in them, "Get in contact with that sorcerer. I can't remember her name."

"Madame Maudrey?"

"Yeah, that's it. Have her look into this a little and see if there's a reversal spell. She'll have something, I'm sure of it." the hand chained to the column heater gestured slightly.

"What if she demands compensation-?"

"You tell her I will owe her nothing! It's thanks to me she's not under the command of Time Baby!"

8-Ball shriveled back at his anger, "Got it, Boss. She lives in this dimension, right?"

Bill seemed to have flipped a switch and was back to calm once more, "Yeah, I can't remember where. You'll have to talk with...with-" the unchained hand moved in a circular motion in hopes of jogging his memory.

"Cabunous?"

"Yes, that's it. Get her location, get the information, and report back to me. I want you to act quickly and avoid every other being in this dimension. No one is to know we had contact, is that understood?"

8-Ball nodded strongly with a creepy half grin that caused his underbite to show off slobber-covered, yellow teeth, "Yes, sir"

"Now go," Bill ordered, turning to look back at the door as if someone would walk in on them at any second. The goblinesque monster nodded once more and crept further under the bed, closing his eyes before disappearing altogether. The only remaining signs of the guest was the faintest hint of putrid flesh and sewer water that would, with luck, fade before Ford returned.

A smirk crossed Bill's face as he laid back down and closed his eyes. If all went according to plan, he'd be a free ma-... His smirk fell. He'd be a free _demon_ in no time at all.

* * *

 **A/N**

 **XD I really liked writing this chapter. It came easier than most of the others for some reason.**

 **Where is this going? Anyone care to share their hypothesis? Let me know what you think in the comments and don't forget to follow and favorite! You guys are the best!**


	12. Human Rituals

Ford was satisfied to see Bill still snoozing when he got back from shopping.

It didn't take him long to wake the demon and get him out of the lab and into the kitchen. From there, he set a plate with a bologna sandwich and chips on the table for him and showed him the variety of utensils and articles of clothing including all of the basic necessities required to live cleanly for the next few months that he had purchased on his shopping trip.

"Why'd you get all of this?" Bill asked as he sat down, pulling a packaged toothbrush from the pile and turning it to read the back.

"Because you stink," Ford said, taking the toothbrush and putting it back in the pile. "I can show you how to use them after lunch."

Bill grabbed the comb instead and ran his thumb along the bristles, "I'm not completely brainless, I'm sure I could figure the majority of this stuff out"

Ford grabbed the comb out of Bill's hands, "Would you stop touching things?" He put it back in the pile and grabbed the stick of deodorant from Bill as he went to grab at that.

"You said you got it for me, so let me look at it!" Bill said, reaching for the pile only to be stopped by Ford who held tight to his wrist.

"They're not toys, Bill." Ford said sternly, tempted to put everything back into its original bag from the grocery store. He released Bill with a sigh.

"Well, duh. I'm not an idiot, Sixer." Bill leaned back into the dining chair and grabbed a chip off of the plate, "I just want to read them."

"You don't need to read them. I'm not gonna let you play with them and end up loosing them because I don't want to have to buy a replacement."

Bill huffed dramatically and shoved a few chips into his mouth. He licked his fingers absently as his eyes drifted to the pile of necessities again.

"Do you need something to drink with that?" Ford asked as he watched Bill intently.

Bill averted his eyes to the plate as his hands moved to pull off the crusts from the sandwich, "Yeah"

Ford got him a drink, mostly ignoring when Bill grabbed the bottle of shampoo from the pile and opened the cap to smell it. Mint and faint hints of lavender scattered across the room. He brought a glass of water back and took the bottle, closing the cap, and setting it in the pile.

Bill took a large gulp from the glass finishing it off almost entirely before stuffing half of the now decrusted sandwich into his mouth.

It didn't take long for Bill to finish and Ford escorted him to the shower. After the shower, Bill put on his pants and was lead to in front of the mirror. Ford squirted a generous portion of shave gel onto his hand and put a razor in the other.

Bill quickly got the idea of it and set the razor on the counter to use both hands to spread the foaming gel on his face. It was when he went to grab for the razor that he began to hesitate.

"Do you need help?" Ford asked as he sat down on the closed toilet seat.

Bill's jaw set and he shook his head, "No."

If Bill had gone to continue the ritual, Ford wouldn't have intervened, but since he'd been staring at his reflection for the last ten minutes, he stood and made to grab for the razor.

Bill pulled it away from his grasp and up slightly as if he were tall enough to keep it away from the elder man. "What are you doing?"

"You're obviously not gonna do it, so give it to me and let me help you"

"What? No!" Bill nearly yelled, his voice going up an octave as he pulled away again.

"Then do it," Ford said, stepping back a bit.

Bill again didn't move and Ford was starting to get irritated.

"Bill, you have to shave your face."

"Most men keep their face hairy." Bill said with a scowl and his hands dropped to his sides.

"Yes, but well groomed. I don't care if you decide to cut it all off or just some of it, it just needs to be well kept."

"You're just making me do this to be mean."

Ford sighed, "I am not, now do it or I'll do it for you"

Bill seemed to contemplate the options for a minute and it wasn't until Ford reached for the razor again that Bill moved, holding the razor far out of the other man's reach.

"I'll do it, I'll do it, just give me a minute!"

Ford huffed and moved to sit on the toilet again. It took nearly a minute for Bill to lean closer to the mirror and hold the razor up to his gel covered chin. It didn't move any farther and it was just as Ford started to notice the trembling in Bill's hand that Bill abruptly pulled it back and threw it into the sink.

"I can't do this," Bill said hopelessly as the razor swiveled around in the bowl before stopping by the drain.

Ford paused. The trembling, the constant aversions, was he..?

"Are you scared?" he asked. Bill immediately reacted by standing up straighter and turning his face to a scowl.

"I am not scared of some _stupid knife_ " he said firmly, lifting a finger to jab in Ford's chest with each syllable of the last few words.

Ford smirked, "Then why are you shaking?"

Bill looked down at his index finger to see the trembling as it rested against Ford's chest. He pulled back and ran the hand through his hair. "I-I'm not"

Ford lifted a brow as Bill shoved both hands in his armpits to hide them.

"Do you want me to do it?" he offered.

Bill shook his head quickly, "If I don't trust myself, why on earth would I trust you?"

Ford stood and reached into the sink to grab the razor, "Because I have experience doing it which means you're less likely to get cut."

Bill looked between him and the razor in his hand for several moments before taking in a shuddering breath and nodding.

"Good," Ford said and motioned for Bill to take his seat on the toilet.

Bill did so and Ford took the hanging hand towel to put around the front of Bill's shirt and neck. It was just as he bent down and was moving the razor into position that Bill put a hand around his wrist to stop him.

"Come on, don't tell me you're getting cold feet now." Ford asked, watching as Bill closed his eyes and tilted his head down. A lump of gel fell from his face and onto the towel.

He took another breath then sat back up and nodded, "Do it."

Ford smirked and moved to run the razor across Bill's face. Bill relaxed visibly when he saw there was no real pain involved and Ford continued, moving over and running it across again. When finished, he instructed Bill to wash his face in the sink then handed him a towel once he was done.

"So, was it as bad as you thought it would be?" Ford asked, taking the towel back and throwing it onto his shoulder.

Bill glared at him then turned back to the mirror.

"You'll have to do it next time."

Bill's eyes widened slightly, "Next time? How often do I have to do this?"

"Probably only once a week or so, we'll see"

Bill slouched and he grabbed the sides of the sink, his head tilting down and hiding his face with his bangs, "Come on, I'm not human, why should I have to put up with these stupid hygiene rituals? First the shower now this, later I'm supposed to brush my teeth. I'm not a human."

"That doesn't matter, now does it? Like it or not," Ford began, crossing his arms, "you're in a human body living in the human's world and therefore, live by human standards, which includes 'hygiene rituals.'"

Bill didn't respond to the statement and Ford's brows furrowed. Why was he acting like this so suddenly? He unfolded his arms and laid a hand on Bill's shoulder, "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine" Bill said blankly.

Ford scowled, that was an obvious lie. "You don't look fine"

Bill turned to him and shrugged his hand off, his eyes showing the mix of anger and depression Ford was sure was bottled up inside of the demon, "Then stop looking"

Ford sighed, "Bill, listen, It's not my goal for you to be completely miserable here."

"Right." Bill said, grabbing the razor that had been left on the counter.

Ford watched him carefully as he lifted it, cautious of his unpredictable mood and his possession of a sharp object. Bill held it up to look at it for a moment before sighing and shoving it into its case. It was obvious he noticed Ford's weariness of him having the object.

"Look, I'm not about to just be magically alright with everything that's happened, okay," Bill said, frustration laced in his voice as he nearly slammed the case onto the counter.

"I understand that," Ford stayed still and made sure to keep his face blank.

"Then stop looking at me like that!" He yelled, turning to face Ford.

Ford was sure his face faltered slightly at the suddenness of Bill's outburst. He was too close for comfort and had too many potentially lethal objects within arms reach.

"Bill, back up." he said firmly, staring him down, but unwilling to make any physical move to get him away.

Bill glared at him with fiery eyes for several moments longer before exhaling through his nose and exiting the bathroom, slamming the door hard behind him.

Ford debated following him and scolding him, but decided against it. Bill needed time to cool off after whatever it was that had gotten him riled up to begin with. He knew not to leave the house and that the gift shop wasn't a smart idea. He'd probably end up somewhere in his old room or the lab, perhaps the kitchen. Ford wouldn't leave him alone long enough to do something stupid just enough to let the boil soften to a simmer.

He sighed heavily and turned back to the counter, grabbing the razor and shave cream and putting them away in the cabinets.

* * *

 **A/N**

 **There is so much angst in this chapter and I just don't know what to do with it...**

 **I had something completely different in mind when I first planned this chapter, but instead out came an extra long, pile of stuff that didn't come out nearly as well as I had envisioned it. Oh well. 99% of writing is hating what you write, right?**

 **Don't forget to favorite, follow, and comment what you've thought so far. I don't have a proof reader so outside feedback is much appreciated!**


	13. Stress Eating

**A/N**

 **To Guest (formerEMObillc): I would've messaged you, but it was under a guest profile, so I'll respond here. I definitely started it back when I first got into the fandom, but I can't remember how far I got. It couldn't have been more than a handful of chapters because they brought in mentions of shipping pretty early on, and I just don't ship it, but it could've been as much as ten? I don't know. If I'm remembering correctly, it was well written. Most of my inspiration for this came from the picture I've got as the book cover and Road to Redemption (as mention in a previous chapter), but I wouldn't completely dismiss the idea that, maybe having started it, it's idea has seeped in a little bit? I find most of writing is basically taking other ideas and adding some of your own to make something different but still recognizable. I've never seen an entirely unique story. -shrugs- (I'm gonna get nasty comments on that aren't I?) Anyway, I could type forever, but I've already got a novel, so thanks for your support and I hope you continue to enjoy!**

* * *

Stan was surprised to find Bill by himself in the kitchen when he had finished closing up the gift shop for the day. He stayed in the doorway, listening as Bill mumbled, searching through the fridge and causing jars to clank together. He came out with a soda and a chocolate pudding cup in hand and nearly slammed it onto the counter, kicking the fridge door on his way in a brute attempt to close it. Bill pulled a spoon from the drawer and opened it and took a bite, his bad mood obvious in his actions.

Stan smirked as he realized what was happening, though he was sure Bill had no conscious understanding of what it was he was doing.

"I'm glad you're eating those." He began and Bill turned with the face of a kid caught in a cookie jar, "With the kids gone, I was afraid I was gonna have to" he grabbed his gut, "that's obviously not a good idea."

Bill pulled the spoon out of his mouth and scooped up some more of the chocolate pudding "You're not mad?" he asked as he put it in his mouth. He was at least outwardly indifferent to whether Stan cared or not as he hoisted himself up to sit on the counter.

Stan shrugged, "I would be, but I just about hit the lottery today in the gift shop, so I'm in a decent mood."

Bill raised his brow as Stan walked passed him and grabbed his own soda out of the fridge.

"So you gonna tell me why you're stress eating?"

Bill scowled and swapped the pudding with the can, popping the tab and taking a long gulp. He let out a long breath when he was done, "No."

Stan took a drink from his soda, "That's fine, I probably don't have anything good to tell you anyway. You're in a tough situation, I get it. I've been in a few of those myself."

Bill peaked over at him from under his bangs, "You have?"

Stan scoffed, "Sure thing, thought you knew that already."

Bill was silent for a moment as if hesitating to say, "The spell has suppressed a lot of my previous memories due to them being directly linked to my powers."

"Well, then I guess I'll just have to tell you," Stan walked over and leaned against the counter beside Bill. He took a swig of the drink then rested his elbows on the granite. "This one time when I was in my early twenties, I got mixed up with a pretty little lady and her boyfriend. Long story short, he was the jealous type and I stayed around a little too long. Then this other time I had a run in with a biker gang and witnessed a murder. I was sure they were gonna kill me for a good while there. Another time I borrowed a rather large sum from an acquaintance I'd met at a bar and ended up loosing it in a game of poker. He chased after for me for awhile after that... Actually, I'm not too sure he ever stopped looking-"

"What does this have to do with anything?" Bill interrupted, tired of hearing the same old stories.

"What I'm saying is, life passes. Sure, you're in a tough spot now, but before you even realize what's happening, you'll be able to look back on things and laugh. You just gotta let life pass."

Bill's jaw clenched. He looked down at the near empty pudding cup. "I don't want life to pass."

Stan chuckled, "No one does, but its important if you ever want to get better."

Bill sighed and said nothing. They weren't going to agree on this and arguing would only put him in a worse position. He picked back up the pudding cup, scraping at the bottom to collect the remaining chocolate.

Stan finished off his can and scratched at his belly, "Just don't tell Ford you ate sugar before dinner or he'll nag you on about a lack of appetite." He crushed the can and tossed it to the trash. It missed, but he didn't feel like walking over there to pick it up.

Bill smirked at Stan's act and finished his own soda, crushing and throwing it to the can. His smirk grew when it hit its target, "I win"

"Oh ho? Don't expect me to go easy on you next time, Cipher."

"Oh sure, I bet I could beat you with my eyes closed."

"I doubt that." Stan said, bumping Bill's thigh with his elbow, "Oh yeah, next time you take something without asking or go off on your own, you're gonna be in trouble, got it? And get off my counter!"

Bill smirked and hopped off, "Roger."

* * *

Stan ordered in a pizza for dinner and the trio ate in their own preferred places, Stan in the living room at the TV and Ford in the kitchen at the table. Bill was forced to join Ford despite his protest that he wasn't hungry and would rather watch TV, not that he was actually interested in it, he just didn't want to be around Ford.

Bill pointedly kept his gaze away from Ford as he took another bite of the supreme pizza. It had been a lot better than he'd been anticipating when he saw the oozing, greasy slice of bread, tomato, cheese, and meat. When he finished his dinner, he left his plate and half empty glass and walked toward the living room. Surely now that he'd finished eating Ford would let him get away.

"Where are you going?" Ford called before he'd made it out the door. Bill paused mid step and sighed, his shoulders slouching to show his displeasure.

"Can't I watch a little television?" He asked, the accusatory tone bleeding through his clenched teeth.

"I'd like to talk about what happened earlier" Ford said, setting his napkin aside after wiping his hands of oils.

Bill didn't move. He knew what that meant.

"Come sit down"

It took all of his will power to force his legs to move and sit in the chair he'd occupied before. Though, he didn't relax. He couldn't. Ford was just going to make him sit there and listen to him talk. He would expect an answer that Bill didn't want to give and _if_ Bill gave it, he'd be scolded further because there was no way Ford would like the answer.

Bill grabbed his half empty glass and put it to his mouth, sipping, but only lightly to make the liquids last.

"I'd like you to tell me what happened earlier" Ford said, leaning back in his chair and clasping his hands idly in his lap.

Bill mumbled through the water, creating bubbles that popped and distorted his made up words.

"Would you put the glass down"

Bill mumbled incoherently again, and this time some of the water splashed onto his cheek and dribbled down his chin.

"Bill, so help me-"

"What do you expect me to say?" Bill asked as he pulled the glass away from his bottom lip. His tone was veering toward irritated and Ford didn't like it.

"I want you to tell me what's going on with you."

"No you don't. You may think you want to know but as soon as you know, you'll be mad at what I say." Bill put the glass back to his lip.

"Put the cup down. I'm not going to ask you again." Ford warned.

Bill didn't move.

"Bill, you're acting like a child. Stop this."

Bill glared. A child. Right.

"I'm trying to have a serious conversation with you!" Ford nearly yelled, his hand slamming down onto the table at a rate that made the dishes quiver.

Bill set his cup down and copied Ford, slamming his fist onto the wood and once again making the ceramic shake. "And I'm obviously trying to avoid it!"

"You're not allowed to avoid it. If I need to talk to you, then you're going to listen!"

"You don't want me to just listen! You want me to answer things that I don't want to! I'm not doing it! You can't make me!"

Ford's brows furrowed and his nostrils flared, "Don't think you get to decide what I can and can't do"

"Why? You choose everything for me, maybe I should get a turn"

"You don't get a turn! You are the bad guy. You have your privileges revoked"

"What makes you the judge of that!? For all you know, I could be the good guy! I could be doing the right thing and you're preventing me from it! That makes you a villain!"

"I'm not the monster here!" Ford yelled.

He gasped when he comprehended his own words. Had he gone too far?

It was quiet for too long before Bill chuckled eerily and stood, "You're right," Ford eyed him as he grabbed for the glass that was now down to a quarter full, "I am a monster."

Time slowed and for a moment, Ford felt he could reach over and stop Bill, but then it accelerated and Bill chucked the glass as hard as he could in the direction of the sink. The sick grin he'd adorned scrunched and a glower took over as the cup shattered on impact with the wall and rained fragments of splintered glass and water.

Ford sat completely still as Bill left the room. He couldn't move as he barely registered the squeaking of furniture as it moved. He was mute when he heard the strangled yell of frustration. And he remained motionless as he heard the slam of the front door. Ford's heart thundered in his chest and he had to convince his lungs to take in a breath of air. When he finally won the battle and was able to suck in, he found himself completely overwhelmed with what had happened.

He stood quickly, maybe too quickly for his oxygen starved mind as his vision tunneled slightly. He didn't care and moved toward the living room where Stan sat in front of the TV with his eyes on the him.

"Help," Ford whispered.

 **A/N**

 **...Well... I tried to do less angst, and this is what happened. I guess after a little debate I realized that Bill probably wouldn't calm down over his earlier outburst so quickly, especially if it'd been simmering for awhile, so yeah... The next chapter or two will probably focus on defusing that ticking bomb... that... apparently... uh, just exploded...**

 **I also almost missed my deadline earlier. Great day for me, huh? I looked at the clock about twenty minutes ago and realized 'hey! It's Friday, isn't it? And I haven't posted yet!'. I was babysitting all day... That's my excuse...**

 **Lots of ...'s...**

 **Anywaaaay, don't forget to follow, favorite, and comment!**


	14. Anatomy

Bill's shoe less feet kicked up the loose pine needles and dirt as he ran through the woods. The stupid human mind he'd been forced into was running at a thousand miles a minute, each second bringing on a new emotion to add to the mix.

Anger, hatred, fear, depression, guilt, disgust, disappointment, frustration-the list went on forever.

The worst part of it all was that he wasn't accustomed to any of it. He was Bill-freaking-Cipher! He'd never be forced to summit to the will of something as petty as emotion and now that he was, and all at once, he was overwhelmed. One minute, he was convinced he'd go back there and kill Ford - with his bare hands if he had to; beat the life out of him and watch the hope fade from his eyes. The next he cowered and checked behind him every few seconds, afraid of Ford being mad enough to do the exact same to him.

His pace fluctuated from a sluggish stumble to full out sprint and one minute he'd be screaming his lungs out in hopes of alleviating some of the pressure, the next he'd be trying his hardest to keep choked sobs down and silent.

It was as he sprinted that a root took hold of his foot. He tripped and collided with the ground, rolling a few feet away due to momentum and stopping when he reached a tree across the grove.

Bill laid there for several minutes and couldn't stop as tears pooled and overflowed, dripping down the side of his face to the dirt near his ear. Rolling to his back, he brought his hands up to his eyes and choked back the sob that persisted. His head pounded. He didn't know how to deal with any of this. The loneliness that had come over him in the last week was overpowering and he felt overwhelmed by his circumstances.

He closed his eyes and rested his hands by his head.

At that moment, he didn't want to move or go anywhere ever again.

He wrapped his arms across himself and turned to his side, pulling his legs up closer to his chest. He wished it'd all just go away.

* * *

It didn't take long for the twins to find flashlights and get out to start the search for the demon. Bill had done an awful job keeping his direction hidden, especially at first. Some places had obvious foot prints where his bare feet had squished into a patches of mud or the pine needles had been so thick he'd left disrupted spots every couple feet. They followed the paths as far as they could then relied on other forms of technical hunting to look for him. Not that either were overly competent at the task.

A yell sounded distantly through the woods and Ford looked over to Stan. He nodded and they followed in the direction they'd heard it come from.

When they came to the conclusion that they weren't finding him fast enough, the twins split up, going in the same direction, but branched out some to fill more of the void.

Ford could still see Stan's light when he heard the quiet, pathetic sobbing coming from not far off in the distance. He took his flash light and pointed it toward Stan's direction and turned it on and off three times to signal he'd found him.

Stan blinked his three times as well and Ford turned to the noise. He walked until he caught sight of the distinct yellow-black mop of hair. He was laying on his side in the dirt and, if not for the occasional hiccup, he would've thought Bill was asleep.

"Bill" Ford called quietly.

Bill jumped nearly a mile and was quickly on his feet in a defensive stance faster than one could say livid, and it would've been intimidating if not for the sudden grimace that crossed his face. He must've gotten injured, but he stayed standing, so it couldn't be too bad.

"What do you want?!" he yelled. The tear streaks stood out brilliantly on his cheeks. It was obvious Bill noticed Ford staring and he looked down.

"Come on, lets go."

"I'm not going anywhere with you!" Bill's voice was raw and grating against his throat.

"Bill-"

"Just leave me alone!" He looked back up at Ford

"I won't" Ford said, his voice raising to speak over, but not quite yelling as he flicked the flashlight off.

Bill's watery gaze hardened and his teeth bared despite the constant tremor of his lower lip only visible by the dimming twilight, "Go now or I'll kill you. I swear I will."

Ford stayed silent. He only watched as Bill trembled with how tight he'd wound himself up. He felt pity for the demon, though he was sure he'd be yelled at if Bill heard that.

"I won't" he whispered.

Bill's glare broke if only for a moment then shattered entirely. He pulled his hand up to wipe away the tears but the tracks remained.

Ford quietly stepped closer. Bill didn't acknowledge him until Ford placed his hand gently on his shoulder.

"Get off of me!" Bill yelled and swung his hand out in front of him, smacking Ford on the arm.

Ford grabbed Bill's wrist to stop him before he could do it again and sudden terror lit Bill's eyes. He struggled to break free, falling back and onto his knees as he pulled but Ford held tight.

"Bill," Ford nearly whispered and Bill stopped struggling if only for a moment, "Bill, listen"

Bill's bottom lip trembled and he clenched his jaw tight to stop it. The fear was still present in his eyes and Ford could only guess at what that was about.

"I'm sorry," Ford said. He could hear Stan approaching from behind, stopping before he got too close to interrupt.

Bill's face scrunched in a scowl and he looked up at Ford, "I'm not listening to this! You're not sorry-"

"-I am. I've been reacting too quickly and am not taking the fact you're a living being into thought-"

"You-"

"-Let me finish" Ford scolded, "I haven't been using perspective which is extremely odd for me." He ignored Stan's sarcastic scoff from behind, "I've been inconsiderate and unsympathetic in this and I'm sorry. I assumed since you've never once shown any reaction to being called a monster before, that you wouldn't now. I overestimated you."

Bill scoffed, "Any reaction I've had up until now wasn't me. I'm forced into whatever this stupid body wants. You don't know anything about what it's like!" he clenched his eyes closed in an attempt to hide the new onslaught of tears, "You know nothing! I..." he sobbed and cupped his mouth with his free hand, "I know nothing." Ford nearly missed it. Had a single cricket croaked at that moment, he wouldn't have heard it.

"Bill," he called, letting go of the demon's wrist and scrunching down next to him. He put a hand on his shoulder. Bill looked up at him through red, tired eyes.

"You don't know nothing." He said sternly, hoping it sounded as convincing as he was of it. "Even without most of the 'book smarts', you still have the 'street smarts' that you've used to think with. You're still cunning and cocky and have the ability of getting your way that I haven't seen in anyone else. Yes, you're in this body and yes, it probably does give you the ability to feel more than your previous, but you are not it. It is you. That body is not the one I saw in the rain. It's not the one that has enjoyed sweets or naps or anything else, it is only the median. You have experienced those things on your own. This body just gave you the ability to."

Bill stared at him, his eyes wide and his mouth slightly agape. It took him several moments before his mouth slapped shut and he gulped, averting his eyes. "If I'm the one controlling all of this, why on earth am I out here sobbing like a pathetic idiot."

Ford smirked slightly, "That's cause you're just not used to it. Trust me, give it time and soon enough, you'll be able to hold back your manly tears, no problem."

"I'm not confined to the same gender rules as you. Crying is just a general sign of weakness."

Ford laughed, "No it's not."

Bill's brows furrowed and he looked up to Ford, "What?"

"It's not a sign of weakness. It's a sign of compassion or frustration."

"Exactly. Weakness."

Ford chuckled slightly, "Come on, let's go."

Bill stopped, "...I can't"

"Sure you can-"

"No, I mean, I can't."

"Oh," Ford looked down to Bill's feet that were bloody from being poked with pine needles and dirty from stepping through mud. He extended his hand and Stan was right behind him to assist, "come on."

Bill wiped his eyes once more and nodded before taking their hands and limping back to the shack with them. Their conversation wasn't over, but the fight was. And that's all that mattered.

* * *

 **A/N**

 **Ugh...Okay, I think that's over for now...hopefully.**

 **Thanks for the reviews guys! I explained it to a couple of you, but for the guests who commented and in case I missed you, in the previous chapter, Ford overreacted a bit because of what I'm going to call PTSD. I mean, he was literally tortured by Bill, what? five days ago? That mixed with the sudden, unpredictable reaction from Bill and the loud shattering of the glass, I felt like his reaction was appropriate, but if you'd prefer I change it, let me know and I'll see how I can rewrite it a bit to keep the same outcome but different response.**

 **Now back to the plot!**


	15. Extermination

"You can't be serious" Bill said flatly as Ford handed him a garbage bag. It had been just over a week since the beginning of his stay with the Pines. He'd mangled the palms of his feet the night he ran off and, after getting back, Ford had wrapped them in gauze with instructions to stay off of them until further notice. Not that he could do much walking anyway. Once, the adrenaline boost had worn off, he'd been unable to even stand without major support.

It'd been the most boring five days of his life.

He'd been forced to sit down in Ford's laboratory while the later did research and, now that the cuts had scabbed over and the immediate pain when pressure was added had subsided, he was been subjected to the worst of all tortures.

 _Cleaning..._

"I am. Now, start on that side." Ford said. He pointed over to the right side of the semi flooded basement. It had to have flooded at least a decade ago and gone completely unnoticed by Stan. Bill followed the finger to where there were dozens of soggy cardboard boxes surrounded by patches of mildew and rotting trash. "All of the trash can go in the bag but put all books, even the wet ones, in a pile to go through later. Leave the boxes for now, we'll go through those next."

Bill frowned as Ford left to the opposite side. This was not part of the deal. _Would he get in trouble for not doing this?_

He sighed.

 _Probably._

Turning toward his assigned side, Bill scowled at the mess. Why couldn't Ford just pay someone to come in here and clean this? The smell was awful and it was humid and gross. He nearly gagged as he picked up a soaked magazine that released a new wave of smells into the air. He set the magazine into a pile for books. Several soda cans and moldy ramen bowls later he came across a decaying mouse. He grimaced and pulled a sock from the ground over top then tossed both into the bag.

A couple books caught his eye as he sifted through trash and the undecided. He skimmed a few, but most he never got passed the cover. Most of them were illegible anyway, with too many water marks to make out the words and papers so water lodged they cracked when he tried to open them.

He eventually finished with the first area and moved on to the next, pushing an old wooden coat rack and a stack of boxes out of the way. He grimaced when they made a sloshing sound as they hit something on the opposite side. Bill walked around the boxes and scowled at the sight of dozens of tiny beetles all swarming a decent patch of mold that had spread to the corner of the room and manifested. They were small, about the size of a bean, and were black, covered in tiny specks of orange, flaring out from the head. There had to be at least a hundred.

"What do I do with these bugs?" Bill asked, turning to see Ford behind him picking up a broken VHS tape and putting it in his bag.

Ford set his bag down before heading over, "What do you mean?"

Bill wordlessly pointed to the nest and watched as Ford followed his finger with his eyes to the mess. His eyes widened and faster than Bill could comprehend what he was doing, Ford was practically on the ground examining the species as it ate away at the mildew.

Ford silently observed them for several minutes before hastily reaching up to grab a warped notebook and pen then going back to the bugs.

"These are _Fingunt Manducans Scarabaeus_ ; or Fungus Eating Beetles." Ford said as he began to draw one of the black and orange dotted bugs, "Last time I encountered them, they were eating away the mildew on a rock at the Gravity Falls waterfalls. I thought they would have gone extinct in the last thirty years due to the low populations and limited food sources, but it appears some must have stowed away somewhere on me when I went home and survived long enough to create a nest using the mold from the flood. Entirely incredible, really."

"Yeah-yeah, what's so good about a bunch of mold eating bugs anyway?" Bill said, sighing as he flicked at one that had creeped up to eye level on the box beside him. He smirked as it flew across to the other wall then fell to the floor.

"Well for one, they have future reading capabilities"

Bill's eyes widened slightly and he turned back to look at the pile.

 _Crap._

"You don't want to know how I found that out, let's just say it wasn't pleasant," he said, continuing on with his description, completely oblivious of Bill's inner turmoil.

Bill's hands shook. He was sure he'd heard of them before, but the stupid curse was limiting his memories. If Ford decided to test that theory out again would he see the outcome of Bill's plan? 8-Ball had just started moving all of the pieces into place. To have it ruined so soon... Would Ford have time to stop him? How far into the future could they see? He couldn't remember!

Bill squeezed his eyes shut to think. He just needed to convince Ford these bugs weren't necessary. He could do that. He may not have his powers, but he was the master of deception. The best con man in any dimension.

"You gonna release them into the wild?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

Stupid human anxiety.

"I'll consider it. Though, they will probably go extinct if I just put them back where I found them, so I'll have to look into where the best place would be. Of course, I'll also want to study them first." Ford said, standing back up and shuffling through the chaos til he found an empty jar, "The water beast greatly prohibited my research last time."

"I remember the water beast." Bill prompted, trying to carry the conversation, "Have you gone back to study him at all since then?"

"No, I haven't. It scared the bejeebers out of Fiddleford and we just never went back. That was right around the time the portal was finished, I believe."

"We should do it then. If I'm remembering correctly, he really likes blueberries."

"What?" Ford paused in his writing to look back at Bill with furrowed brows.

Bill's hands rose before he could even register why, "Well, you haven't been able to properly record your findings have you? Why not go back and try again? And it's not like the water beast and beetles are the only things that live by the falls anyway. Last I checked, there were easily a dozen different species there, not including the different variations of said species." He fibbed. He honestly couldn't remember, but he could estimate and if Ford found that estimation dramatically wrong, he could blame faulty memory due to the curse, that he must've been remembering a different waterfall.

"How much do you really know?" Ford mumbled and for a moment Bill wondered if he was expecting him to reply. Was he acting too suspicious?

Ford shook his head and placed a slitted lid on the jar containing his newest specimen. "Yeah, I'm sure I'll take the time to go back down there and study the falls again at some point, now that I'm back."

"Great, when are we going?"

"We? Bill, you're not going." It sounded like he was talking to a child, trying to gently explain something and being cautious of the wrong reaction. He'd been hearing that a lot the last few days.

Bill's shoulders dropped theatrically, "Don't tell me you plan on leaving me here. It's not like I'm the most help on earth in this form, but I can still do something."

Ford scoffed, all cautiousness gone now that the reaction was out, "Yeah, like drown me in the falls? You're not going anywhere."

Bill hid his wicked grin best as possible, but was sure it broke through at least slightly, "Come on, Sixer, you know me better than that."

"Sure" Ford commented absently, "I'll be right back. Don't touch the bugs"

Bill's nonchalant facade turned into a scowl once Ford had left the room. He turned back to the bugs and stared at them menacingly. He wanted nothing more than to crush the remaining bugs into oblivion, but if he did, Ford would know it was him. He'd suspect Bill was hiding something. No, that wasn't the way to go.

He had to be careful about his approach. He couldn't make it obvious that he'd caused mishap. It had to look like an accident. Though, however he ended up doing it, he'd have to do it quick or his entire scheme would be brought to light.

The back and forth of keeping it quick and keeping it quiet played his mind as he watched one of the black and orange beetles climb the box beside him, much like the one earlier had. Bill raised his hand, coaxing it as it crawled across his fingers then to his palm. He smirked, squeezing his hand into a tight fist and feeling its life force squish out.

He flung his hand causing the carcass and some of its fluid to fling off then wiped the remainder down the pant leg of his jeans.

Bill smirked.

One down, ninety-nine to go.

 **A/N**

 **He he :3, this was fun...**

 **What's Bill gonna do? Any takers?**

 **I had midterms this week, so I almost missed my deadline. I did make it though, so you can't accuse me of nothing. It's still Friday!**

 **This story just passed 25K words. I can not believe it! So far my longest ever finished story only went to 21K, so this feels really good, even if it's not finished yet. XD Don't worry, I'm not even close to the end yet.**

 **Don't forget to favorite, follow and comment! Thanks for reading!**


	16. Logical Discoveries

Ford half stumbled on the last step to the mid floor, nearly dropping one of the mason jars he'd collected from his lab. Three were in a green plastic bucket that sat in the crook of his arm, two were being carried by cheesecloth, and two more were nestled under each arm as he tried to walk the rest of the way and not drop anything. So far he'd been close to failing multiple times.

Bill was staring blankly down at the bugs when he entered. It was almost eerie the way he didn't seem to even hear Ford enter.

"Bill?" Ford called and Bill startled and turned towards him, "Come grab some of this."

The jars were quickly exchanged and the two went to work portioning the remaining bugs into them in such a fashion that they wouldn't be over crowded. After each had been sealed with cheesecloth and rubber bands, Ford slipped on a disposable glove and went to scraping the mold into a bucket with a piece of cardboard along with any other patches he found across the room, some containing their own small nest of bugs.

"Why are you keeping the mold?" Bill asked as he held the bucket at arms reach to avoid the smell.

"'Fungus Eating Beetles', I thought it was obvious in the name."

Bill deadpanned, "Well, what happens when you run out?"

Ford scooped up another pile, "I won't. I'm going to farm the mold until we can find a better resource for them."

"Ugh, that's gonna stink." Bill's nose scrunched up and he leaned farther away from the bucket as if it were the only source of his disgust.

"Yeah," he didn't feel the need to elaborate and Bill didn't continue the conversation so the room fell silent.

When he finished with all of the mold he could find, he picked up three of the jars, handing two to Bill for him to juggle along with the mold. Both of them walked back to his lab, being mindful of the steps. He set his burden on the desk beside the one he'd left before and took the jars and bucket of mold from Bill.

"Go back and grab the last jars, will you?" he asked. Ford didn't hear Bill answer, but when he turned, Bill was gone, so he assumed he'd done as asked.

Ford took to setting up the mold farm, running up to the kitchen to grab several slices of bread and filling a spray bottle at the tap. Bill was in the lab setting down the bugs as he returned. He set the bread into a metal tray and spritzed them lightly with water before covering them and storing it in the cupboard with a mild heat lamp.

"I don't want to be down here as long as you've got that growing in there." Bill said. He'd gotten bored of watching and had turned to sitting in the swivel chair that squeaked when you turned it just right.

"Why's that?" Ford asked, trying not to get annoyed with the rhythmic pitch. Bill had been doing that all week. It was past annoying, but he tried to reason that Bill was just feeling boredom, it wasn't something he could do anything about.

"You're growing mold. It's not like it's the most pleasant smelling stuff on earth and I'm still in the process of trying to get used to pungent smells."

"I'll think about it." He said, grabbing two of the jars from the desk and trying to fit them into the cabinet. If he could barely fit the first two, how on earth was he gonna get the other six in?

"Come on," Bill begged.

"What? I said I'll think about it."

"Yeah, that means no"

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Whatever"

Ford managed to get two more in on the lower shelf, put the other three in a cabinet on the opposite side of the room, and the last was set on his book shelf, surrounded in books to keep its surroundings darker.

With that finished, they got back to work in the storage room. Once he finished picking up obvious trash from his side of the room, Ford moved to sorting through the boxes. He went to the nearest box and pulled open the tabs to look inside. He sorted through the first few on his own before Bill finished and switched to helping him.

They'd start three piles. One for the dump, one for further inspection, and one for Stanley to go through. Each pile had been collecting a decent stack and Ford was proud of their process as he opened up the next box in the line. He rummaged through for a few moments before determining it's contents.

Stanley's old junk.

Miscellaneous sports tees and an old wrestling trophy mixed in with a dozen or so old newspapers and a picture of a cute red head from their high school years. Nothing of any real value. Then again, it wasn't his, so how could he place the value on it?

Ford rifled through a bit more before handing it to Bill to set it aside, Stanley would have to decide what he wanted to do with the boxes of junk they'd collected.

He moved to the box that had been directly under Stanley's junk and opened it. Inside were stacked, bubble wrapped ceramic dishes.

Where had these come from?

He pulled one out of the bubble wrap and looked at it. It was simple and white with blue flowers along the edge. The design was unique, but is wasn't super elaborate. It was plain. It looked like something his mother would own.

Ford's brow furrowed and Bill leaned over his shoulder slightly to look at them.

"Those are nice," Bill said, though despite the words, it sounded almost sarcastic coming from him.

Ford hummed and wrapped it precariously before setting it back into the box. It was then given to Bill to put in a forth pile: one for things he didn't know what to do with.

He opened the box underneath the dishes and paused. Baseball cards from their youth. They'd had a thing going for a while where every time they got money, he and Stan would run down to the hobby store and would purchase baseball cards. Someone had convinced them they'd be worth a fortune in the future, though now that they'd been through the flood, he doubted they were worth much if anything at all.

"This can go with Stan's stuff." he said, motioning for Bill to take it.

He moved to the next stack, pulling the top box down to be able to see into it. Clothes. The next had books.

The clothes box was moved to to the dump pile and the books to further inspection. Ford opened the last box in the pile. It was both heart whelming and nauseating to see the rather full box of old pictures.

Most were wrinkled and stuck together with water abuse and many were too blurry to make out. Too bad they'd been at the bottom of the stack or they might've been better.

He pulled out a few and looked at them closer, smiling slightly as he made out a picture of him and his brother swinging on a swing set. That picture had been taken on their sixth birthday, or was it their seventh?

Why would he have these? Didn't his mother keep-...

"What'd you find?" the voice caused Ford to startle slightly. He'd almost forgotten Bill was there.

"Old pictures" Ford said once he'd calmed, pulling out a dusty old album and tossing it onto the workbench behind him that held the other books he'd found in his cleaning. The album was probably the only set of photos in the box that hadn't been entirely destroyed due to its casing.

"Put this in the dump pile." Ford turned to look through a different box. He felt nauseous.

"Why? Where'd you get all of these?" Bill asked and Ford turned to see him trying to peel one away from the other, only stopping when it caused damage to the one behind it.

"Would you stop touching things?" Ford snapped.

Bill's eyes widened slightly and he dropped the pictures, his hands going up in defense, "Okay, okay, don't get mad at me, all I did was ask a question."

Ford sighed, his hand coming up to rub at the scrunched up skin between his brows. He needed a break from this. Though, what _this_ was, he didn't know.

"I know, I know" he said and walked back to the reminiscent box. He pulled one out and looked at its water logged deformity, "It's just, there's only one reason these would be here," Ford swallowed hard and dropped the photo back in the box. He moved it to the pile of things he didn't know what to do with and turned back to the other pile he'd taken on.

"You wanna talk about it?" Bill asked but Ford didn't turn to him. He could hear the dullness in his voice.

"Not really," Ford said and opened a new one in the pile.

"You sure?"

"At least not with you..." Ford had to consciously stop the frown from forming as he turned back to his box. He felt a little bad for leaving Bill hanging like that, but he doubted he'd even be able to say what he feared. Showing that kind of vulnerability in front of the master of deceit did not sound like something he wanted to add to his to do list for today. "...Not with you."

 **A/N**

 **...Poor Ford...**

 **Any-who, this was fun and hard and somewhere in between but I can't think of the word for it right now and I'm not gonna spend thirty minutes googling it for an author's note.**

 **The next chapter won't be up until after Halloween, so Happy Halloween! (If you don't celebrate it, then I guess it'll just be Happy Tuesday) I still have no idea who/what I'm going as or if I'll even go trick or treating. I'm technically an adult. Would it be too weird? I still look like I'm 12 sometimes. I could play it off. Are you going? If so, how old are you and who as? I'm curious.**

 **Thanks for reading and don't forget to favorite, follow, and comment!**


	17. Plans

Stan could tell something was up with Ford the moment he sat down at the dinner table. Maybe it was intuition, maybe it was twin telepathy, either way, Ford was a non verbal, non visible mess and he had no clue how to get answers out of him. He couldn't just start up a conversation about it, though. "Hey, I'm pretty sure you're bottling something up and I don't know what so I'm going to be nosy try to get you to talk when you probably don't want to!"

Yeah... that would go real well.

Stan eyed Ford as he scooped himself a serving of pre-made lasagna he had picked up at the store. Ford really wasn't acting much different from normal. He was still fairly quiet and had that annoying yet lovable air of arrogance, if not for the slightest slump of his shoulders, Stan probably would have bought into Ford's facade as well as Bill apparently had.

"So," Stan started, trying to find something to create a conversation from, "how's it going in the basement?"

"Well enough," Ford answered, cutting into the bake with his fork, "Bill found _Fingunt Manducans Scarabaeus_ whilecleaning up. It'll be entertaining to see how they've evolved in the last thirty years." He picked up the piece and put it in his mouth.

Huh... maybe he wasn't acting strange... maybe everything was fine?

"Don't got a clue what that is, don't know that I wanna know." Stan said and took a bite of his food.

Ford scoffed humorously, "They're a type of bug."

"And they eat mold." Bill chimed in, theatrically shivering to display his disgust.

"And they eat mold." Ford agreed, nodding his head slightly before taking another bite of his supper.

Stan tried to hide his chuckle. Apparently, spending all day together in a basement had made the two of them fairly compatible. He had doubted their ability to be, though he assumed it made sense. After all, they'd spent years in each others presence and if not for Bill's underlying scheme, they would probably still be close friends.

It made him both happy and nauseous.

What proof did he have that Bill hadn't brain washed Ford somehow?

"Speaking of the basement, we've got at least a dozen boxes for you to sort through." Ford said and took a drink from his glass.

"Yeah? Like what?"

"Like all of your old sports equipment and several boxes of clothes. Most of it is way too small to fit you now, I honestly don't understand why you brought it here."

Stan scoffed slightly and smiled, "Yeah, that stuff's all junk. I had some buddies of mine ship everything from my old place. Guess I didn't realize how little of it I'd actually want."

The room fell into mostly comfortable silence as they each finished up their dinner.

"I... uh... I found Ma's pictures." Ford said as they neared finishing.

Stan choked on the food he was swallowing and had to hit at his chest to get it back up. He didn't miss Bill's little chuckle or when Ford swatted at him earning a humorous whine. Stan took a drink, sighed, and set his glass down. "You did?" He was tip toeing the subject, he knew, but he honestly had no idea how Ford would take this piece of information in particular.

"I had been thinking about going up to visit them..." Ford said, turning back to his pasta, "I guess, I still can... it will just be different than my original assumptions."

Stan sighed, "The thought had crossed my mind that you wouldn't know. How could you, right? I guess I'd just been putting off telling you."

"Don't blame yourself. I was mad at first, but now that I've been thinking on it more, it makes perfect sense. I mean, I was gone for thirty years. I just-" he took a deep breath and let it out slowly, looking up to Stan with eyes that showed every thing he'd been bottling up, "I miss them."

"Yeah, me too."

"You do?" He sounded confused. Why would he miss the people that had thrown him out? But he still did. You never forget your parents.

"Sure I do. They may have ignored me a bit and thought I was you anytime they asked me to visit, but they were still my parents. After... I didn't go to the funeral, but I wish I did."

"We should go visit them- er you know what I mean."

"I'll go if you go," Stan said.

Ford smiled, "Deal."

* * *

Bill scowled at the tile in front of him as he took a shower. Apparently the mildew scent had remained on him and Ford had made him bathe because of it. His stomach was full and the heat surrounding him was making him sleepy, but he couldn't rest yet. He was still trying to come up with a plan on how to deal with the bugs. Then he could worry about sleep. However, nothing logical was coming to mind and he amusingly thought about just lighting Ford's entire study on fire. That would deal with them for sure.

But no, that would make him the most likely suspect to the trauma.

Those stupid bugs were becoming a larger and larger liability every second they lived and despite his ability to crush them easily, he knew if he did, Ford would blame him. At this point it seemed no matter what happened, if those bugs were any less than 100%, all accusations would be pointed to him. That meant if something happened to them that didn't have anything to do with Bill, he'd still be forced to take the blame.

 _How do you avoid a trap like that?_

Bill sighed.

 _You can't._

Bill ran his hand through his hair to dampen his roots. This task was becoming more tedious than he had been expecting it to. He had to think. He was one of the smartest beings in any dimension, surely he could deal with some puny insects. Though, he thought belatedly, Ford had caused most of his knowledge to be sealed from his reach.

Then maybe the loophole there was for him to regain his knowledge.

That required him to be released from the spell. 8-Ball had been working on the details of that for not even a week now but he was already becoming impatient. He didn't have an immortal body anymore and every second ticked off to an inevitable death. He didn't even know if 8-Ball would be able to get the correct information from that stupid witch. At this point, it almost seemed like the best plan of action was to use the bugs.

That was it!

If he were to use the bugs for himself, force them to read his future, then maybe he could see that he'd already be released from the spell or he'd know what would need to change to make that happen. He'd be completely released from the anxiety of unknown circumstances.

It seemed the most logical plan of action.

Of course, there was always the point of how did he get the bugs, get alone long enough to use them, and even figuring out _how_ to use them was going to be an obstacle. But he couldn't give up that easily. He would do this and Ford would be oblivious to it.

"Are you almost done in there?" Ford called, a slight chill and nearness of Ford's voice telling Bill the door had been cracked open.

Bill hastily squeezed some soap into his hands, causing the body wash to fall into to the tub. He ignored it and ran the shampoo through his hair, "Uh, yeah, I'll be out in a minute."

"Okay, there's clothes and a towel on the sink for you." Ford said and Bill heard the door click shut.

Bill leaned his head back to get rid of the foam. There would be no failure in this plan. Either he'd see his current actions were making headway and he'd be free before he could blink or he'd know to change them. Both outcomes were favorable and ended with him back to his old self in the quickest fashion possible. He would make Ford and Stan rue the day they crossed him.

And nothing would ever stop him again.

* * *

 **A/N**

 **Yay! Another chapter, right? This one was mainly inner dialogue, but it moves the plot along, so that's okay. :)**

 **What do you think? Are the characters doing things to easily? Do I need more strife? Or is it good as is? Same as always, your input/comments are much appreciated!**

 **We actually passed the 50 comments mark and the 5500 reads recently and I kinda flipped out. You guys are the best! Don't forget to favorite, follow, and review!**


	18. Profitable Accidents

The next morning, Ford pulled Bill back into the basement to continue in the storage room. Since the trash had been picked up and the boxes had been mostly sorted, now was the time to build shelves for the boxes to go on and clear out things for the dump. Large panels of ply wood and long 2x4's had been moved in and Ford and Bill were clearing a corner of the room.

Bill picked up the old coat rack, "Where do you want this?"

"That's going to the junk yard, set it by the door." Ford answered and continued in pushing piles of boxes to the side.

Bill complied and once the area had been cleared, Ford put Bill in charge of grabbing the 2x4 needed while he set up the screws and drill. Bill went up to the dozen or so of long pieces of wood that were lined up against the wall and pulled one back until it tilted in the direction of the corner he'd be taking it to. Then, preparing for the weight of the wood, he grabbed low and pulled it up. It hit a bump and before Bill even understood what had happened, he felt the sprinkling of powdered drywall and a light drizzle of water raining down on him.

Bill screeched slightly, dropping his piece of wood and backing up away from the sudden flow of water and flying dust. He'd apparently prepared for way too much weight and the wood had crashed into the already weak-from-water ceiling, breaking through, and hitting a pipe above.

"What'd you do?" Ford accused as he walked over to examine the damage.

"I don't know!" The tone was entirely in defense, "I must have over estimated the weight of the wood." Bill said, reaching for the towel that'd been hung on the door handle. Ford had said it was supposed to be used for excess sweat, but he thought any liquid would suffice.

Ford sighed as he looked over the mess more and Bill began to wonder how bad it really was. He didn't have experience in the subject, obviously, but it couldn't be that hard.

"It's not that big of a deal, right? I mean, how hard can it be to fix a pipe?" Bill asked as he tossed the towel back.

"I'm a scientist, not a plumber, Bill" Ford sighed again and rubbed against the scrunched up spot between his brows, "I guess I'll have to call one in though."

"A plumber?"

"Well it's not like anyone here has the skills to fix this."

"What about Que-er Soos?" The name felt weird in his mouth. Had he ever even called him by his name before?

"Soos is general maintenance, sure, but he'd probably try to fix this with duct tape. That doesn't solve the problem, just prolongs the treatment."

Bill shrugged. How was he supposed to know that? As far as he'd heard, duct tape fixed anything.

"I'm gonna go find a phone book, you find a bucket to keep the mess at bay." Ford said before trudging out of the room.

Bill looked around and, after not finding a bucket in the general vicinity, ran up to the kitchen to find the biggest bowl and then put it under the leak. It caught the majority of the mess, but filled up pretty quickly. Since that wasn't working, he figured he'd try the duct tape method mentioned by Ford. Prolonging the treatment - that's what they needed.

He grabbed a ladder and the duct tape they'd been using to mark the wall and climbed up. The tape was attached to one side and Bill pulled it up and over. Ford was back by the time he'd wrapped it up well enough that the constant drizzle had slowed to a steady drop.

"Well?" he asked as he tore the tape and stepped down from the ladder.

Ford scowled slightly up at the duct taped pipe but didn't comment, "The plumber is booked until tomorrow afternoon, so I set up an appointment and we'll have to just leave it until then."

"Wait, the plumber comes here?"

Ford deadpanned, "Of course they do, how else would they fix the pipe? You'll have to stay in your old room while he's here though. I doubt anyone in town was absent from your little _party_ "

Bill gulped down the sudden leap of hope from Ford's words and played it off with a joke, "Hey, that was fun. You can't say you've lived 'til you've joined a demonic festivity."

"Right, _fun_ "

Bill laughed lightly. Ford had said he was going to put him in the old room while the plumber was there tomorrow. This could be the perfect opportunity to use the bugs.

"Let's finish up these shelves and call it a day." Ford said and gestured to the wood, "Grab a 2x4 - and this time don't ram it into the roof."

Bill smirked, "Oh come on, it was way lighter than I was expecting it to be. You can't blame me for that."

"I can blame you for whatever I want to blame you for."

Bill scoffed and complied with the request, grabbing a 2x4, this time being more gentle with the way he carried it. Ford put him in charge of holding the wood steady while he nailed them into the wall. When they finished the first shelf, they repeated the process two feet above and once more two feet above that. Once the shelves were built, boxes were labeled and stacked.

"Not bad for a nerd and his pet demon." Stan startled them and they turned to see him leaning in the doorway.

Ford scoffed, "I'd like to see you do better"

Bill thought about joining in on the banter, but didn't want to ruin the semi casual conversation they were having that, for once, wasn't ridden with tension.

"I just came down to see the damage" Stan said, placing his hands on his hips and staring up at the busted pipe, "That's some strength you got there."

"Oh please, the roof was about to cave in anyway," Ford smirked.

"You wish," Bill crossed his arms and shifted his weight to one foot, "I've got more muscle than you."

Ford made a playful kick at him then grabbed his rag. "Come on, let's go get food."

Bill grabbed his rag as well and the three walked up to the kitchen. Bill was put in charge of tearing lettuce while the twins worked on cutting tomatoes and browning meat.

"What time is the plumber coming tomorrow?" Stan asked Ford. Bill assumed the conversation wasn't necessarily meant for him, but he listened in anyway.

"Noon," Ford replied as he added seasoning to the meat and shook the pan to mix the ingredients.

"What are you doing with him?"

Bill looked up at that to see Stan peering over his shoulder at him. He turned back to the lettuce.

"Downstairs"

"Right"

Bill looked back over at them. They seemed calm about the recent events and that would only work in his favor. He was still debating the time in which to steal and the bugs and the calmer they were during that time, the easier it would be.

Bill put the lettuce into the strainer and took it to the sink to rinse it. He would have to do it tonight. They'd multiplied in the last day, so maybe Ford hadn't been able to keep track of their numbers. He'd have to hide them before he got to the room tomorrow which meant he needed to do it now while the twins were preoccupied.

"I'm gonna go to the toilet." Bill said.

"You don't have to announce it to the world." Stan scoffed and Ford nodded.

He had to hide the smirk that threatened to break as he left the room and walked to the bathroom two doors down from the kitchen. He opened the door and closed it making sure it was loud enough that the twins would notice.

Bill could still hear the sizzling pan as he quietly went to the vending machine that had been left ajar and nearly ran down to Ford's lab. He grabbed a jar from off the shelf and quickly took one beetle from five different jars to make the change less noticeable.

Bill covered it with leftover cheesecloth and a rubber band and stuck it behind his back and under his shirt in case one of the twins happened to see him. He held it close to the small of his back as he walked back up the stairs and out of the lab. From there, he went back to the guest bathroom, opening and closing the door as quietly as possible, then pulled the jar out from under his shirt.

Phase one was complete. That was the hard part. Now he just had to get it to the basement.

He opened the sink cabinet and shoved the jar in behind some cleaners, flushed the toilet, and walked out like nothing had happened at all. That is, aside from the things that normally happen in a bathroom.

"Bill." Ford called.

Bill froze as the old man turned to him with a furrowed brow. Crap. Did he know? How could he know?

"The water didn't run after you flushed," He scowled and his tone turned to scolding, "go wash your hands."

Bill's face heated and he nodded, turning back to the bathroom to wash his hands so Ford would let him help finish dinner.

* * *

 **A/N**

 **Okay, so this chapter is extremely fast paced and I dislike it a lot, but the scenes in it are all pretty necessary and to extend them would be boring and** **repetitive, so I just smooshed them together to get it over with. The next chapter is so much better, I promise.**

 **Bill has got some big things coming. Any takers?**

 **Don't forget to favorite, follow, and comment your reactions!**


	19. Frenemies

**A/N**

 **So I just finished reading "His Name Was Billy Mischief" which is another fic on this sight. If you have not read this, go check it out. I am dying at the plot and the characters and, man, I simultaneously hate and love Billy. It's like you know he's awful but you just can't hate him for it because he's just so lovable. Anyway! My rant is over. Go check it out if you haven't yet!**

* * *

The door closed behind him and Bill stood frozen as he waited for the sound of the door locking and Ford's feet walking up the stairs. The first never came and his brows furrowed as he reached down to check the door handle. It opened. So Ford trusted him enough to not lock it? Or did he just assume Bill had enough common sense to not leave when one of the towns folk were inside? He closed it once more and turned back to the room.

It was exactly as he'd left it over a week ago except the place where his circle had been hacked up had been cut out and replaced with new wood. Though he'd known of the change before coming in here. He'd seen it last night when he'd sneaked the jar down.

Bill walked to the attached bathroom and closed the door behind him. It didn't have a lock, but he wasn't expecting anybody for the next while anyway.

Going to the toilet, Bill lifted the tank lid and pulled the jar of beetles out then replaced the lid. He pulled the jar up to eye view to examine the bugs. They were creepy to say the least. With their creepy legs and creepy mouths and creepy colors.

Bill opened the jar and pulled one out onto his hand to study it. How was he supposed to make them read his future? Was it supposed to bite him? Maybe release a toxic gas? What if it was that they needed to be eaten? Was he really willing to eat a bug?

Yes.

He'd do anything to see this through.

Bill waited for it to do something and when it moved to try and get off his hand, he closed his fist and squeezed slightly. He didn't want it to die, just for it to think it was going to. The small, but painful prick caused him to yelp and his hand opened, flinging the bug to the ground where it quickly scurried under the sink. Bill looked to the door and listened for several moments to make sure he hadn't attracted any unwanted attention by his yell. Nothing came and he turned back to his hand, scowling down at the bite. It was tinted red and there were obvious punctures, but nothing else seemed off. He didn't feel anything other than the sting.

Did he have to wait longer?

He hoped not. He didn't want to wait. He didn't have much time.

This was becoming more annoying by the second.

Bill went back to the jar and grabbed out a second beetle when he concluded the bite did absolutely nothing. This one scrambled around more than the last and Bill had to turn his wrist to keep it from falling as the last had. No gasses were released and Bill was forced to come to his last hypothesis. He grimaced at the bug as he grabbed it with both fingers and brought it to his mouth. Bill gulped down the disgust once more and tossed it in, quickly chewing to stop the bugs crawling around in his oral cavity. His entire body tensed as he ignored the taste and texture, evidently swallowing the bug. Shivers wracked his spine and he grabbed hold to the edge of the sink. His knuckles turned white from the pressure as he waited for something - anything to happen.

Nothing did.

This was stupid.

Ford had probably lied to him to spite him. He was probably sitting back, just watching to see if he was stupid enough to fall for it. Well, Ford had won. Bill grabbed the jar and brought it roughly to his face to stare at the remaining beetles. They crawled around in there without a care in the world, not even understanding his frustration.

He had to figure this out. He was freaking Bill Cipher! He could do anything and these stupid beetles would not put a limit on him. He pulled one more out of the jar and stared at it as it sat in his palm. It didn't move around as the others had, but instead moved its arms in a round about way across his skin.

Bill's brows furrowed as he watched the movement. What on earth was it doing? A dance?

As if on cue with Bill's thoughts the beetle moved forward and a semi solid cake of crap came out its anus. "Eww" Bill hissed, flinging his hand and the beetle off of it. When he looked back at his hand, the poop was still there. Disgusted, he tried to wipe it off on the hand towel by the sink.

Nothing.

It was still stuck. As he observed it, the semi solid piece began to dissolve and absorbed into his palm. It melted like butter then vanished beneath his skin. The moment it disappeared from the surface, he felt it.

Absolute dizziness and drowsiness.

He felt as if he'd just witnessed a loud explosion that caught you off guard and sent you flying for a solid surface. His eyes rang and his vision blurred.

Bill's back hit the wall and he slid down before he could fall. His hands went to his head to try and alleviate some of the nausea. It only worsened and before he could conjure up another thought, he was taken unconscious.

* * *

The sky was foggy green and the smell of rot hit him the first moment he opened his eyes. Flames persisted everywhere around him, biting and eating away at the greenery surrounding the shack. It was like a mad house and people he recognized from the town ran away, coming from behind him.

He tried to stand, tried to do anything and found he couldn't.

This wasn't right.

He was stuck in the mind of his future self, unable to do anything but watch in terror as the one being he'd been avoiding for millennia hovered down before him.

Mike; the perpendicular purple square with a large mouth and wild teeth who he'd once considered his best friend.

Fear boiled in his chest at the sight of him. Mike was one of the few people he did his best to avoid. The purple demon had much to despise Bill for and, due to his loss of sanity many millennia ago, crossing paths was one thing Bill had gone out of his way to avoid.

If he was there, it was not a good thing.

He could hear Mike speaking to him but couldn't comprehend the words. It was like he was living in a memory where the object of focus was vivid but everything else was muted and foggy. Oddly enough, despite the lack of literate sounds, the smell stuck out to him as much as the demon himself had. The future Bill was struck and his head was thrown to the side, spinning despite its definite landing.

Bill's eyes widened as Mike approached. He was defenseless. Could he die in the future? Did that even make sense? He couldn't move and his future self wasn't moving. That _thing_ was getting closer! Mike's psychotic laughter rung through his ears and he was struck again. Bill gulped down the gnawing realization that came to him in a beat of clarity.

This was his future.

Come this time, he'd die at the hands of Mike.

The body he currently viewed from was struck again and again and he felt the agonizing pain in each strike. The eyelids he had no control over began to close and just like that, searing pain shot through him. It was everywhere and no where all at once, pure energy swallowing his being. The pain died off and Bill's eyes opened to see malicious yellowed teeth inches from his face.

"It's not nice to fall asleep on your host" Mike's words blared through his mind and despite the warning and energy fizzling, the eyelids closed.

* * *

Bill awoke with a start. A gasp escaped his lips and his entire being trembled at the recent images and phantom pains that lingered in his mind and across his body. That sickening smile and the psychotic laugh was still stuck on repeat; over and over, it played, taunting him.

It took him several moments for him to realize where he was. He looked around and finally comprehended the sink and toilet on either side of him and the door in front. He was in the bathroom back at the Pines' home. He was safe.

For now, that was.

All he'd gathered from the vision was that Mike would somehow break through to this dimension to extract his revenge and Bill had no idea when. How long did he have until the inevitable? A week? A year? What could he do to stop it? How did Mike even find him to begin with?

He was too shaken to think. The image of Mike stood out clear in his mind and his entire being dreaded the thought of what that monster would do.

And he was entirely powerless to stop it.

Mike would have no problem killing him off as a human.

He was weak in this body.

Completely defenseless.

The worst part of it all, was that even though he now knew what would happen, he couldn't tell anyone about it. 8-Ball wouldn't be back for weeks and Ford would kill him for breaking the rules with Stan right behind him. It wasn't like they would be at all effected by Mike's presence either. Unless they tried to come to his defense, Mike would brush them off like fleas, not even caring of their presence. It would benefit them for Mike to come after him. They wouldn't even have to lift a finger and Bill would receive his just desserts.

Bill looked ahead to were the mason jar had fallen to the floor, not one of the beetles left in sight. He'd have to break the spell before Mike came. That was the only way he'd be able to defend himself against that monster. And he'd have to move quickly.

* * *

 **A/N**

 **Well that's the end of the second arc. I actually planned on making it go longer, but if I do, it'll be like thirty chapters. It's currently at 11. I think that's a decent stopping point. Now for the next arc!**

 **He he... Bill's in trouble, isn't he? I'm dying just waiting to write it, but I know what's gonna happen. I can't imagine being in your position. I'd say I'm sorry, but I can't, so sorry... that I'm... not sorry? I guess that makes sense. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯**

 **The next chapter will be posted after Thanksgiving because I'll be out of town, but don't forget to favorite, follow, and comment! Happy Thanksgiving!**


	20. Nightmares

Ford was awoken by quiet whimpering.

It wasn't hard to think nothing of them at first. After all, they were barely there and it was hard to distinguish them between fear or erotic anyway, but when the whimpering became verbal with pleas of "stop" and "no", he sat up with a groan. He struggled to get his glasses on in the dark and switched the lamp, squinting as he waited for his pupils to dilate enough to see.

He sighed when he saw the demon writhing against the blankets and cuff. This was the forth night in a row that Bill had woken him up with his nightmares. Ford found it ironic as he debated waking him, that the same dream demon who had haunted poor people for centuries was now being haunted by nightmares himself. He absently wondered if it was another dream demon causing this distress or if it was simply Bill's own mind conjuring up the torment.

Ford ended up not having to decide on whether to wake him or not as, with one short cry, Bill bolted upright, apparently forgetting about the cuff attaching him to the wall and yanking against it in pure terror. It was almost as if Bill was still in the dream, still seeing whatever it was that had scared him so badly.

"Bill," Ford called and Bill flinched so hard Ford had to wonder what it was he'd dreamed, though if a dream demon was terrified of it, maybe he didn't want to know.

Bill turned to face Ford as if he was the life line that assured him whatever it was he saw wasn't real. Ford could clearly see the deep purple bags that stood out atop light freckles and beneath wide eyes. The visible fear on his features simmered into nothingness as he calmed and Bill's shoulders sagged slightly when he took a shaky breath. The demon was drenched in sweat to say the least and still trembling from the adrenaline rush. It was pitiful. Or it would be if Ford hadn't experienced the same things at Bill's mercy.

Bill turned away and removed his damp shirt best as possible, wiped his forehead, and laid down with his back to Ford. He was probably trying to appear calm, but it wasn't working. The muscles in his back were still taught beneath the vivid black lines of his spell and his shoulder blades tense, nearly touching.

"Are you okay?" Ford asked after nearly a minute of watching Bill try to pretend nothing was wrong.

"Just go back to sleep," Bill said, his voice trembling slightly as he spoke. He sounded frustrated.

"Bill-"

"I don't wanna talk about it," he said, not moving from his position other than to ball himself up into a fetal position under the blanket.

Ford stayed quiet for a minute. He'd known Bill probably wouldn't want to talk, that was to be expected, but he couldn't help the gnawing in him that said he'd felt this fear before, he'd been terrified before. He wouldn't want to be alone.

"Bill," he whispered once more, "do you want me to turn on some music to help you get back to sleep?"

Bill was silent for several moments before nodding his head slightly.

"Okay," Ford got up and moved to his dresser where he had his tape player and popped in a cassette that played popular classical music from the sixties. It took a few moments for it to start playing through the speaker but, once it did, Ford turned it low and got back to bed.

Ford didn't turn the lights off, instead falling asleep to the soft piano and horns and drums.

* * *

Bill didn't go back to sleep after Ford. He couldn't. Not one image had stayed in his mind after he'd woken, but he had a pretty good guess at what it'd been about as the atmosphere and the tension and the fear stayed long after. It had happened every night for the last four nights. Every night since he'd stupidly stolen a glimpse at his future. The night terrors left him feeling as if he shouldn't leave his back exposed, like could't stay in the dark. He was grateful Ford left the lamp on.

The night was long and when Ford finally woke up, Bill pretended to be asleep to keep Ford from asking questions. They got up and went upstairs, ate breakfast, all part of the normal routine, but Bill still felt the terror running through his veins. It made he want to yell. I made him want to throw up.

Ford set them to sorting through the books that had been set aside in the basement after they ate. The basement was becoming a hell hole of repetitive day in-day out, mindless work. He skimmed through books like a machine, not even fully comprehending what it was he was reading as he set them into designated piles. It was all mush. His brain wasn't working.

After a while, he couldn't even decipher if the book was useful or not so he stared as long as he could without getting scolded then moved on the the next, setting in which ever pile he felt. There was a 50/50 chance of getting the right one anyway.

He picked up a new one and opened it up to scan for anything intelligent. It was like his eyes had been blocked by sheets of cotton, giving him just enough visibility to see the book in front of his face but not enough to tell what it said.

He stared at it and tried to make his eyes focus. Nothing came. It was just fog.

"Bill!"

Bill jumped and his eyes shot to Ford who stood out in full clarity. That was odd.

"You're falling asleep," Ford scolded and took a look at his piles, "and you haven't been sorting them correctly."

Bill stared at Ford, mesmerizing in his ability to make out every detail of his face. He'd been nearly asleep? Is that what happened to his vision? To his brain?

"You act like you didn't sleep last night." Ford said, going through the pile of books.

Bill didn't answer. It sounded theoretical. Instead, he watched Ford with a bored interest as the old man quickly scanned each book and set them into new piles.

Ford looked up to him when he finished, "You didn't go back to sleep after I did, did you?"

Bill stared at him numbly. He wasn't going to deny it. He had no evidence against the claim, in fact, the evidence present just supported it. He tried hard to bite back the yawn, but couldn't.

Exhibit A.

"Bill," it was scolding, but more disappointed than angry, "you have to sleep."

"I can't," he nearly whispered, leaning his elbows down to his knees as he sat criss cross on the cement.

"That isn't an option. You have been out of service for days now. Did something happen? Is something happening?"

Should he tell him? About everything? Surely it would lighten some of the load, but could he risk the possibilities? No. Ford couldn't find out. He didn't even want to imagine what would happen if he did.

"No" Bill looked down to his lap and closed his eyes. His head was starting to hurt and he was so tired, he felt he'd fall asleep any moment. His eyes snapped back open. He couldn't sleep.

"Why on earth are you having nightmares all of a sudden?" Ford asked.

"I don't know"

"I need you to talk to me." Ford sat down next to him, "I can't help you until you do."

"Who says I want your help?" Bill looked up at Ford with a glare, or what he hoped was a glare. He was so tired he could barely feel his face. Not moving much probably wasn't helping much.

"Do you honestly think you can fix this by yourself?"

"Yes-"

"Really?"

Bill stared at him. This had been going on for days and at this point, he'd already debated just killing himself to end the anxiety and exhaustion. The only thing keeping him back was his lack of knowledge on where he'd go. He knew where humans went. That was simple. But he was a demon. Did demons go to hell? Surely not heaven? Was there somewhere else? Was it just a void? He didn't have a soul so did he even exist outside of this realm?

"No." Bill said, pulling his hands up to rest his face in them, "I don't."

"That's what I thought." Ford said, "You could try Ambien again. It won't necessarily take away the dreams, but you'd sleep."

"And be stuck in the nightmares? No thank you."

"Well, I suppose we could get dragon slime."

Bill looked up, "Dragon slime?"

"Yes. It has properties that aid in dreamless sleep." Bill's ears perked and he looked up to Ford as he continued, "It's not the easiest to get and I don't know if it will work on you since you're not entirely human, but it might be worth a shot."

"I don't care, I'll try anything at this point." Bill said.

"Right. We can go after lunch." Ford said and stood. He collected the books he'd been going through and set them back in the box of unsorted. Once finished, Ford turned back to Bill.

"Well? Are you coming?"

"Now?" Bill asked, why were they starting so early?

"Yes, now. It's nearly noon."

Bill's eyes widened slightly. Had he been zoned out for that long? Nodding once, Bill sluggishly got up and followed him out of the room.

They quickly ate and packed and were ready to leave by one.

* * *

 **A/N**

 **And the first chapter of the third arc is up!**

 **I am so excited for this arc. It has way more action than the last few and is gonna be a lot better to read and write, I'm sure.**

 **I've got finals next week and I'm so confused as to how I got here. Did I really just finish an entire semester of college or did someone replace me?**

 **As always, don't forget to favorite, follow and comment your opinions and reactions!**


	21. Prey

The woods grew thicker the farther they traveled. It was as if they weren't supposed to go that way, that no one had ever gone that way, but Ford knew better. The thick bush had been kept by the dragon keeper years ago before he died. Now, it grew, untamed by human hand and wild, casting fear into those who unknowingly followed into its trap.

"Are you sure were going the right way?" Bill yawned as he trudged behind. He'd been complaining every few minutes for the last five miles.

"Yes, I am." Ford said, hoisting his backpack farther up and into a more comfortable position on his shoulders. He raised a hand to check the sun. It looked to be nearly three, so they'd been traveling for about two hours.

"How much further?"

Ford glanced around to further gauge their surroundings. They'd started a steady ascent not long ago after reaching the foot of the mountain.

Ford turned back to Bill, "Not too much."

Bill sighed, hitting a branch away from his face so he could pass as Ford lead him through a path that tightened together more than before.

Rocky cliffs began to come into view through the trees as they reached the bottom. Ford turned to the right and continued on once they reached the base, Bill sighing and following after. The demon was panting at this point and Ford silently wished he had left him at home since that would mean it'd be an easier trip. But then again, the initial contact with the dragon would be easier with two people. Ford stopped as they came to the mouth of the cave. It stood tall, nearly twice his size, and was as wide as a set of double doors.

"Is this it?" It was a comprehensive whisper. Bill knew this place, Ford could tell, or at least recognized the authority the beings inside held. It would strike anyone with awe, whether they were human or demon.

"Yeah."

Ford pulled his backpack off and unzipped it, pulling out a head lamp for himself. He also grabbed a small container for putting the slime in, sliding it into his pocket, and a ray gun in case they actually ran into the beast.

When he turned back to Bill, he saw that the demon had grabbed his own flash light and was now looking up to the roof of the cave, using the light to illuminate the cracks. Ford wasn't sure what Bill found so interesting.

"You ready?" Ford asked, putting on the headlamp and securing it at the back of his head.

Bill turned to him with an expression that read of exhaustion and determination, but he nodded and they each turned back to the cave.

The first little while of walking through the semi rocky terrain was easy. Light flooded in through holes in the roof of the cave's structure and it wasn't difficult for them to see where they were going, especially with the help of the flashlights. However, as they reached the first drop and Ford pulled out a rope to help them rappel to the bottom, light became more scarce and it was harder to tell where they were and where they were going.

"Are you sure this is the right way?" Bill asked as he shined his light down a path as they passed it by. It was the wrong one, Ford knew. The right path would be easily distinguishable among the others.

"Certain," Ford said, glancing down to his compass to make sure. Pointing east. They were on the right track.

Up ahead the path sectioned off, part of it staying level and part slanting up in ascent. The slope went on about ten feet before cutting off into a short cliff.

"How can you be certain?" Bill followed the slanted path beside Ford, jumping back down to where Ford walked once he'd reached about four feet higher than him. He stumbled slightly but caught himself.

"Because, I am." Ford glanced at Bill as he jumped down beside him. Bill seemed to be at least sightly more energetic now that they'd actually reached the location.

"How much longer is it?"

"It depends."

"Depends on what?" Bill shined his flash light toward the roof of the cave that stood stories above them.

"It just depends."

The flash light went to Ford's face and he squinted and put his hand in the way to block the light.

"That doesn't make any sense."

"Well, there's nothing I can do about it."

They passed another path in the cave and Bill shined his light down it. Ford stopped when he realized Bill wasn't following anymore and turned to see him still in the entrance to the path way.

"You coming?" Ford asked.

Bill looked over to him then back down the path. "You should come see this."

Ford's brows furrowed as he walked back over to Bill and glanced down the path that now had twice the amount of light as before with double the amount of flashlights glaring in.

It wasn't a path.

Through the passage stood a large opening with a lower ceiling and no other exits. Bones were littered across the floor along with rodent skulls and deer hooves. Torn fabric of what looked to be a forest ranger had been carelessly strewn atop a pile of dirt and there was a single child's sneaker near the entrance.

Ford's jaw dropped slightly as he took in the sight. The strangest thing about it was that not a drop of blood stood anywhere in sight and no stench filled the area as would normally happen when someone was surrounded by carcasses.

Realization hit him like a ton of bricks.

This was the trash room.

This was where that beast had stored the things he was done with.

This was, the bones of his prey.

Ford closed his mouth and turned back to their original path. "Come on, we're close."

Bill looked over to him with sober eyes and nodded, following close behind.

He didn't talk much after that as they made their way through the cave once again. It was as Ford caught a glimpse of muted red light through one path of the cave that they switched and followed that. That was the sign Ford had been looking for down each path. This would lead to the heart of the cave.

Bill walked quietly beside him, seemingly more alert and stoic than before. Ford doubted that he had any pity for the people and animals that had been mauled by the beast, but maybe now he was more aware of his own danger.

The light was still easily a few hundred yards away when they heard it. Loud and long and bellowing through the walls deafening enough that both Ford and Bill had to cover their ears.

Ford turned to look back at Bill who stood wide eyed staring at the path behind them.

"Was that-?" Bill cut off as another roar echoed through and a large green tail swung inches from them, crashing into the wall and sending rocks flying.

"Run!" Ford yelled and the two started off in the direction of the red light.

The dragon was right behind them, snapping his jaw and bellowing as if it would make them stop. The worst part was that there was no light behind them and they couldn't see the beast until it was inches from them and snapping at the hairs on the back of their heads.

Bill cried out as it snapped at him and sped up for a second before coming back to his original speed, which was still at a full out sprint.

"We're gonna die!" he yelled, gulping and ducking slightly to cover his ears when the dragon thundered once again.

"I'm not going out that easily and neither are you! Find the slime!" Ford yelled and pushed Bill to the side, sending him down a path to the left as he continued on the main path. Bill got the idea and continued down that way.

The light was closer now.

Ford pressed on and silently prayed the beast would follow him and not Bill. He chuckled when he saw it had and only had a second to think before one large claw swept across the area and threw him into the side wall.

Everything went black.

* * *

 **A/N**

 **Well...what do you think?**

 **I'm actually fairly proud of this chapter. That hasn't happened in a long time, haha XD**

 **Don't forget to favorite, follow, and review!**

 **EDIT: I have to go on a short hiatus over the holidays. Who knew I'd be more busy on my break than I was in college? Anyway, I'll post the next chapter sometime at the end of December to beginning of January. Thank you for your patience!**


	22. No More Saber Teeth

Bill stumbled when Ford pushed him down the joining path. It was not what he'd expected. Why on earth would he do that?The dragon would kill Ford when it caught up with him.

Bill turned back around quickly and went back out into his original path, pulling open his pack to get inside. Just as he'd expected, Ford had been caught up to, immobilized, and the dragon was now leering inches from his glasses.

"Hey, stupid!" Bill called, not knowing whether he was talking to the dragon or his partner. He threw his flashlight to collide with the wall and make more noise to distract the beast. It wasn't like he needed it now any way with the light that blared down the corridor.

The dragon turned to look at Bill and sneered, saliva dripping off of large saber teeth. It was on him in an instant, knocking him to his back and claws gripping at his shoulder in a vice that had his skin breaking and blood mixing with nail and dirt. It roared, spitting flecks of drool at Bill and causing his ears to ache.

Bill grunted and reached into the pack with his free hand.

He pulled out his laser gun, aimed for the beast, and pulled the trigger. Pressure was released from him as the dragon collapsed to the side, raining blood and fluids along the area.

That had been a million times easier than Ford had made it out to be.

Bill was shaking as he pulled himself out from under the carcass. He looked back to Ford to see him still unconscious. That idiot had always wanted to be the hero, of course he decided to sacrifice himself. Now Bill would have to find a way to get both of them out of there. It wasn't like he could just leave him. If he went back to the shack without him, Stan would kill him, and if he didn't go back to the shack at all, the beasts of the forest would. He sighed, this week had not been good to him-scratch that, this whole month had sucked. He was tired and starting to get hungry and he still hadn't gotten any slime!

Bill walked over to Ford and checked to make sure he was still breathing. Once that was confirmed, he lifted Ford onto his back and continued down the path toward the glowing light. If Ford had made them take this path, it must have been for something. As the light grew brighter the closer they got to the source, Bill noticed the path stretching, widening into a large room. In the middle stood a pillar that hosted a nest.

Bill laid Ford down as he approached the nest. It was much too small for the huge beast they had encountered. Once he reach the pillar, he peaked up over the mound of sticks and hay.

Bill scoffed at the nest's prize. Ford may have told him to get slime, but he never said how.

* * *

His shoulder ached and his head tinged with spikes of pain near the back of his neck. It was a pain to open his eyes and the glaring sun bit back at him.

Wait...sun?

He glanced around through slitted lids to gain information about his surroundings. Trees and grass and dirt. Was he outside? Hadn't he been in the dragon's lair? He came to a stop when he saw Bill sitting on a fallen tree nearly three yards away, drinking from a sports bottle.

He finished his sip and looked down, catching Fords eyes, "You're awake."

Ford grunted as he tried to sit. He felt nauseous and dizzy, but wouldn't that get in the way now. He sat up entirely then pulled himself back to rest against a nearby tree.

"Where are we?" Ford asked, taking in the rain of muck covering Bill and how it all seemed to be focus at his shoulder.

"In the woods. About a mile from the cave."

"How'd we get here?"

Bill smirked, "Maybe you flew."

Ford deadpanned, "Okay, so you got me here, but what happened?"

"You were knocked unconscious after you pushed me away and I had to go save your sorry butt, that's what happened."

"But how'd you do it?"

Bill smirked with a gleam in his eye that spoke of a secret, "Let's just say, I don't understand what all the fuss was for that thing."

Ford stopped, his eyes widening, "You didn't kill it, did you?"

Bill's smirk fell, "Of course I did. How else would we have gotten out?"

Ford sighed and rubbed his brow, wincing slightly when he rubbed a cut that had been forming a scab. He pulled his hand down to look at the blood.

"That was a divine being, Bill." he started, turning away from the blood to look at the demon, "You have no idea what you've started."

"Why does it matter?"

"The only existing dragon has been destroyed and you ask why it matters? That dragon was centuries old, originating from an entirely different dimension! How are you going to get the slime now? Did the curse make you this ignorant or were you always stupid?"

Bill scoffed, "Last dragon? Yeah right."

He reached behind his makeshift seat and pulled his pack from the ground. Once he'd settled it on his lap, he opened it, pulling its sides to reveal his prize. Sitting in the pack being roughly cushioned by tools and supplies was a rather large, ivory and beige, spotted egg.

Ford was up examining it faster than he'd ever before ignoring his aches in favor of the discovery. The egg was huge in comparison to typical eggs, but small in comparison to the pterodactyl eggs he'd spotted in buried catacombs many years before.

"Where did you find this?" Ford asked, gently taking the package - pack, egg, and all - and lifting it closer to his face.

"The end of the glowing tunnel." Bill said, leaning back on his hands to support himself from behind.

"But this has never been heard of. How did you find an egg?"

"I don't know. There was a nest on a pillar. The egg was in that. I don't ask where it comes from, I just know it was there."

The egg twitched below him and Ford turned back to it. It'd been removed from it's warmth, from it's home. It'd been handled by human hands. Now it was twitching.

"I think it's gonna hatch," Bill said, pulling back up and forward to get a better view.

"In all of my years of research,"Ford started, setting the pack down and stepping back a few steps, "I never imagined I'd be the first to witness the birth of a dragon."

"Technically, you're only half first, since I'm here too." Bill said, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

"You don't count. You're not a scientist."

The egg cracked slightly and Ford held his breath, ready for the miracle. The wall of the shell cracked more and once more and finally collapsed in on itself to reveal the miniature being. The same species as had been devoted to killing them was now in their hands and in need of their care.

It squawked hoarsely as it weakly hit its purple wings at the sides to open a passage and finally stumbled out of its previous residence. Unlike its mama, this baby had no horns or saber teeth and barely stood 8 inches tall.

"Its so cute" Bill said blandly reaching to grab his pack and remove the shell now that the baby was out. "Now that you've cracked it, how are we getting it back?"

Ford bent down to eye level with the tiny beast, "This is magnificent. Absolutely stunning!" He held out his hand and the baby waddled over to it, sniffing at it a moment then nomming down on one of his fingers. It didn't hurt.

Ford sat up, pulling his own pack onto his shoulders, and lifted the baby. "You coming?" He turned to see Bill staring at him with an odd expression.

"Yeah," Bill sighed and stood, grabbing his pack and following behind.

Bill jogged to catch up to him, "What are you gonna name it?"

Ford scoffed, "At this point, I'm just focusing on getting back. I don't even know if we'll keep it."

"You kept a demon and your grandchildren around, I doubt your ability to let this one go." Bill smirked.

Ford ignored him and continued on.

They were back at the shack shortly after nightfall.

* * *

 **A/N**

 **Wow! I haven't written a boring authors note since last year! ...okay, I'm done now.**

 **My computer is acting up and not letting me post, so I'm posting this through the app on my phone and I don't exactly know what its posting, but I'll check up on it tomorrow while I'm at work (shhh), until then, please deal with the surely error filled crap that is the first chapter of 2018.**

 **Does anyone else have the app? I didn't know it existed until a couple months ago and I've been an avid reader on here since 2012... shows you how much I pay attention.**

 **What do you think so far? I had the hardest time getting back into writing after three weeks break... hopefully it's not showing too much in my writing...**

 **Don't forget to favorite, follow, and review!**


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